


Raccoon City: Resident Evil 2 Remade

by TheLadyFrost



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil (Movieverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: All Games 1-3, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Jokes, Blood and Gore, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Graphic Description of Corpses, Psychological Horror, Reimaginging, Zombies, graphic death, outbreak, puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16157633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyFrost/pseuds/TheLadyFrost
Summary: It all began in a necropolis. A rookie cop, a disgraced hero, a sister looking for answers - and the waiting dark filled with monsters. We think we know what waits for them - but we haven't even begun to imagine. (RE2/Outbreak - timeline canon divergence to suit the nature of the story, new puzzles, new friendships - character deaths and deception.) Rated M: language/gore.





	1. Chapter 1

Raccoon City  
....  
Raccoon City, Pennsylvania

September 29, 2018 –

3 days after Outbreak...  
......

The wasteland continued to burn. The groaning filled the stifling air.

A chorus of corruption.

A symphony of death.

He'd never understand how it was possible for the world to be on fire while it wept in remorse. The rain beat down on the heads of the undead like tears from Heaven. He slipped in his own blood – leaving a hand print smeared over the door of the cruiser. Red, blue, red, blue – the myriad of colors swirled prettily across his face as he staggered.

Where were they? Had it worked? He was dying. He didn't need a doctor to tell him that. He was dying. How long did he have?

He was still faster than the dead that stalked him. His hand shifted off his stomach, watching the spill of bright red in the boiling shadows. He was going to join them soon enough. This wound? Mortal. He knew it. Even as he struggled to get some place and die with a little dignity. He knew it.

He looked out over the blistering black sky, watching the lightning streak and immortalize the face of the clock tower in the distance. He'd been a week late getting to this city. A week late to help during the outbreak. A week late to save a soul.

Serve and protect – it was written on the squad car he left behind him in the burning square. Had he? They were safe. Wherever they were? They were free of the nightmare. Surely. Surely he'd done, at least that. At least that.

At least.

His gloved hand slipped loosely over the handle for the door. RPD.

The last bastion of hope. Surely he'd find someone else alive inside. They were COPS. They were saviors. He couldn't be the only cop left alive in this necropolis. He couldn't.

Alive?

The door opened and spilled him uselessly the tiles inside. Cool, he thought desperately, as he crawled forward and kicked the door shut behind him – sealing out the dead that hungered for his flesh and blood. The air conditioning was still working because this building was cool as a cucumber.

And clean.

And empty.

Softly, he breathed, "Fuck…please no." His bloody fingers gripped the railing in the massive lobby. Beautiful. Tremendous. The article in Architectural Digest had hailed it as a MODERN DAY MASTERPIECE – AN HOMAGE TO GOTHIC REVIVALISM.

The fountain burbled happily in the center of the breathtaking foyer. He wanted to marvel at the magnificence of it all. But he slipped in the blood from his own belly and tumbled the two steps down from the platform to the slick tiles instead.

He was going to die in this beautiful lobby on his first day on the job.

The doors creaked. He rolled to his back and backed up against the amazing fountain. He raised his weapon as it burst open – and a woman came through, sweaty, filthy, and panicked.

She raised her gun on him and his arm, shaking so badly he could barely keep it aloft, dropped his own pistol to his lap. The world shimmered gray and black. Gray and red. Gray and dark. He whispered, "…don't shoot…I'm a human."

Although he wasn't sure for how much longer. He slipped into the darkness staring at the end of her barrel – and wondering if it would be mercy for her to just put him down.

How else would he ever escape this nightmare?

Three days ago - he'd stepped out of his door and into the world of survival horror.

He was ready, so ready, for it to just be...game over.

He wasn't even afraid any more as he went to the floor in a pool of his own blood.


	2. In the Beginning

Raccoon City  
.......

Raccoon City, Pennsylvania

June 15th, 2018 –

3 months prior to Outbreak  
..........

From the floating hologram high above the bustling metropolis, the energetic voice piped it's product into the humid air. British, exciting, and filled with encouragement, the voice promised all the things the viewer witnessed in the healthy, attractive, beautifully convincing faces that passed against the cloudless sky. Walking billboards, it seemed, selling things you couldn't live without.

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals - Selling Life. The voice, happily promoting things to improve yours, "Obedience Breeds Discipline, Discipline Breeds Unity, Unity Breeds Power, Power is Life". The beautiful woman grinned and tossed her pretty blonde hair, "Our Business is Life Itself."

Selling Power. Selling the Future. Selling the Lies.

Beneath the towering Goliath of the RPD station, the meeting in progress seemed so mediocre in the face of such power. The first in a series of interviews had been conducted via Facetime. Formalities, really, for what would come next. The rookie in the room with the most powerful men in the business was a shoe in. They all knew it.

They all sat in agreement.

Leon Scott Kennedy was the first of a series of new recruits to join the Raccoon City Police Departments: Cure the Crime Wave, Clean up the City! initiative. They toasted his appointment...and sealed his fate.

The bar at the corner of Hyde Avenue and Jekyll Joke Road wasn't the first of its kind. The brother to J's Bar, K's Kitchen, was in Wombat Junction a few miles down the road. Raccoon City herself was a by product of what natives in the area affectionately, and rudely, often referred to as: Four Critters Corner. It encompassed the four big cities that made up the "burg."

Wombat Junction, Possum Pass, Raccoon City, and Chipmunk Crossing were all moderately sized cities equivalent to something like Topeka, Kansas - census wise. Nothing special. Nothing crazy. Just some drugs, some gun violence, some domestic disputes - the occasional murder. Honestly, for a cop from Pittsburgh used to the teeming streets of metropolis madness, the whole thing felt a bit like a Disney movie. He kept waiting for talking dogs and singing mermaids to pop out of their cartoonist caves and shells to offer him his lifes story in B-Flat.

After helping clean up in the academy from things as bad as back street abortions and mass murder, he was looking forward to the simplicity of suburban crime. He could go the rest of his life without ever having to break outside the box to help the poor and down trod. He wanted to help, he did, he believed wholeheartedly in the power of the shield and the need to serve and protect...he just didn't want to witness a baby half aborted by a close hanger stuffed up the destroyed insides of another cracked out whore for the rest of his life. Some things you just never forgot. Ever.

Raccoon City seemed quiet enough. Calm enough. Simple enough. The worst thing he'd likely find here was a few fist fights over a girl in a bar gone bad or a kid skipping class to get out of a math exam. Shit, Leon thought contemplatively, the sign leading into the city had a grinning foxed face little guy with those ringed eyes and that curly tail waving. Inviting. Come on in, said the happy faced critter, and stay awhile.

Hell, he'd seen Seven with Brad Pitt, he knew what assignments he could be out there finding himself in. This one was a GIFT. A big one. It got him away from the old man and his constant lecturing about "joining the family business"...as if Leon would EVER be happy as a carpenter that hand crafted furniture...no. Just...no. It wasn't the easiest conversation to have with Jessica. She was up in arms about the whole thing - convinced he was trying to get away from the Pitts to keep her from going to art school.

As if.

He hadn't the heart to tell her either...that her art was shit. She was a terrible painter. Her shit looked like a third grader got bored one afternoon and smeared colors together with their feet.

But such was the way of love, he supposed. If he wanted to make it work, they'd have to find a compromise in the middle. They'd been together since middle school, with the occasional break up to grow up, so it seemed stupid to tank ten years of dating because he wanted a fresh start. He only knew one thing: if he didn't get outta the Pitts and start over, he was going to die a beat cop in a busted ass city who moonlighted as a carpenter.

His guts curdled at the thought. He wasn't sure why, but something in his bones abhorred that idea. Sure, it was a good life. He'd make ok money. He and Jess could have a couple kids and settle down and be fine. But, again, he got the twitch at the back of his neck that said: This isn't your life, kid. This isn't your future. Was it here?

He glanced around the smokey bar, feeling the shiver of curiosity. Was his future here in Raccoon City? What was it about this place that called to him? Why did his bones tell him he BELONGED here?

He dropped a hand to rub the cleft in his chin thoughtfully. He had the grades, the IQ, the tenacity - he was top of his class, top of the line, a marksman, a free thinker. He'd passed with flying colors to the joy and tittering excitement of his superiors. He was aces. A great cop. A good kid in a pinch. Wet behind the ears, sure, but willing to go the distance. He wanted to be Chief of Police one day and maybe run for office after that.

Why not?

His fucking name was Kennedy - didn't that mean he should have some kind of power?

Not be a goddamn carpenter in a shitty little town with a lack luster life, a mediocre house, and a pretty wife whose greatest achievement was Homecoming Queen.

He paused, the beer halfway to his mouth. Wow.

He was a fucking asshole to boot.

The phone on the bar by his hand jingled. The text was Jessica, like she'd read his mind just now, a selfie of her at the Pittsburgh Instititute of Fine Art. It read: "Meeting with the Dean - Wish me luck! XoXo!" A fingers crossed emoji and a kissy face. Ugh.

UGH.

She even talked like that. That was the sad news. She was a text talker. The type of modern millenial that didn't just slang in the written form, they verbalized their use of acronyms and pointless time savers. "Oh, Leon," Jess would titter, "I gotta call Susie. She's toatz gonna dump Evan tonight. It's messy but I can't help but LOL. You know? Wait here. I'll BRB!"

He loved.

He just kept saying it as his IQ dropped by being in her presence. He loved her. Under the valley girl gone cheerleader spacey behavior, she was a good girl. Honest. Forthright. She'd been faithful to him for so long he felt like they were practically joined at the hip.

It was the right thing to stay with her and try to make it work. It was.

Down the bar a few stools, a voice queried, "Hey! Any chance you got a light?"

He turned his head and found the curious gaze of a redhead with big blue eyes. She had a smoke tucked between big lips and dark brows arched on a smooth forehead. The cowboy boots were brown, the cutoffs she wore were faded, and the tank top advertised the classic cool that was the Rolling Stones with the red lips and the tongue taunting those to judge it.

Her hair was sloppily tied back in a ponytail with a single braid looped above her ear and three earrings dancing up the lobe beside it. She looked young enough to suggest he was too old for her, rocker chic enough to let him know she wasn't his type, and in the companionship of a trio of other girls that were watching him like a pack of lions might a gazelle on the plains.

A curious thing for him, honestly, as he came from a town where everyone knew he and Jess were a thing - and no one bothered to look at him like that at all.

In a move that might have made Tom Cruise proud, Leon struck up the book of matches on the bar beside him and tossed it down the mahogany to the girl. It slid, lit like a bad ass, and she caught it in her hand. She had a tattoo up the inside of her forearm that looked like the symbol for Cancer.

Catching it, the girl flashed him a grin. "Cocky thing. What's your name?"

What was it that brought on this moment? Sheer stupidity maybe. Maybe it was knowing he was just a kid who'd landed his first job that had nothing to do with his Dad and the long arm of the Kennedy name to open doors for him. He'd gotten a beat cop position here, starting in September, on his own merit. His own.

It meant something.

Even if he didn't ever take it. Even if he turned it down to stay in the Pitts. Even if...he became the man his family wanted and ignored the feeling that he was meant for more.

Jessica sent another text: "U will luv the dorms here! We can room 2gether!"

He turned his head toward the girl and answered, "...Leon."

The phone buzzed again: "Artists make bank! U can be a stay at home DAD!"

He felt vaguely like he might throw up.

And the girl at the end of the bar said, "Hi, Leon...how do you feel about darts?"

It was the first time in weeks he didn't feel like he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He tilted his head, smiling at her a little. "Depends..."

"On?"

"How do you feel about losing?"

Her laughter tinkled musically around him. She offered him the cigarette and picked up his beer, "You shouldn't underestimate me, Leon. I'm better than the average bear."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Oh...yeah." She gripped the darts off the board, helping herself to the cigarette dangling between his lips. She turned while he sipped his beer, and looked at her ass in those cutoffs.

"...prove it."

Claire tilted her head, grinning widely. The other girls at the little table with them couldn't stop whispering. She leaned a little closer to him and said, conspiratorially, "I'm just down from college visiting my brother. These eager bitches over here think you're a piece of ass. I think you need to beat me to prove them wrong...but I have a problem with losing, Leon. I just don't like to do it."

"What do you say...I win, you buy me a drink?"

She tilted her head, "...fair enough. But if I win, you have to take off all your clothes and run naked down the street."

She was something else. But she clearly didn't know who she was challenging here. He shrugged.

"Hmm," He rose and took her cigarette again. He poked it between his lips, inhaled sharply on the bitter taste, and helped himself to a dart. Without looking at the board, with just looking at her, he chucked the little thing...and came within half an inch of the bullseye.

The giggling slowed down a little.

The girl looked at him with both brows lifted, "Oh...ok. Ok. This is good." She rolled her shoulders. She took the darts, cracking her neck. "This is gonna be a battle after all."

She helped herself to the cigarette, brushing her arm and shoulder against him. His fingers tingled, his lips twitched and he laughed. She tilted her head a little, looking at his mouth.

She was something else.

He'd never met a girl like her in his life.

Ever.

"Leon?" She looked a little sad. He glanced at her mouth.

"Hmm?"

"I'm so sorry."

"Why?"

The dart hit the bullseye. The second one took up a space right beside it. The third one joined the party. Boom-boom-boom.

Triple threat.

The girl sighed dramatically. "I'm so sorry. I just can't do it. I couldn't lose. I'm a winner. It's what I do."

She helped herself to his beer, polished it off, and shrugged. "Shame. I was hoping you'd beat me fair and square."

She waited, blinking. He was trying to figure out how to welsh on the bet here and she laughed instead. She patted his arms, winking at him. She all but danced away in those cowboy boots. "Don't worry, handsome, I'm gonna give you a pass...usually when I see something like you naked, I want us both to be that way."

Lord.

She paused with her girlfriends at the door. "...maybe we'll have a rematch one day, huh?"

He stared at her, a little dumbfounded, "Wait a minute...who are you!?"

She left the bar with a laugh.

He'd never met a girl like her in his entire life.

The cop sitting beside the dartboard gave him a look of sympathy. "...dude, you've just been Redfield..." He shook his head, "You're not baptized until she beats your ass at darts and leaves you with blue balls..."

At the bar, a harried looking fellow with urine blonde hair and dark skin chortled gleefully. His uniform said Jim. And he said, "Yeah...once she shoots you down...you officially a native..."

Leon kept staring at her where she'd been. "Who was that?"

Behind the bar, the owner let out a laugh, "Dude. That was Claire Redfield. Welcome to Raccoon City."


	3. Ground Zero - Day 1

Raccoon City  
....

Raccoon City, Pennsylvania

September 26, 2018 –

Ground Zero- Day 1  
..........

The car streaked down the highway. It was racing. It was roaring. He was mercilessly LATE.

It wasn't a surprise. Really, it wasn't. He was mostly hung over, kinda still smelly, and wrinkled. It was his first day on the force – and he looked like a hobo.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was that Jessica had dumped him the night before, without warning, because some broad had posted pictures of him on Instagram shooting darts with Claire Redfield in that bar in Raccoon City MONTHS ago. Nothing had happened. Nothing. Not a damn thing.

But Jessica? Drama all over the place. And Leon? Captain of the Dump Town. Peaced out. Kicked to the curb. Finito.

He was going to find #RedfieldRules and kick their ass. Whoever had the nerve, and he was betting it was one of those bitches who'd been running with Claire Redfield that night, to fuck with his universe was seriously damaging his reputation. He was now, amongst his home town, the guy who cheated on Jessica Sherawat – the homecoming queen.

His own MOTHER wasn't answering his texts now. It was degrading.

In lieu of sitting on his ass to feel sorry for himself, he'd taken his dumped ass out to the local watering hole the night before – gotten shit faced drunk- and taken home the first girl that had hit on him.

He'd fucked her the first time, without a condom like some fucking rookie dumb ass without a single functioning brain cell, behind the bar against the wall with his pants around his thighs. Pretty girl, in town for the races with some friends, headed to Raccoon City herself the next day for the parade.

What was her name?

Elsa…something. Elsa…Winters? Elsa…Walker?

He couldn't remember. She was just a space filler for Claire Redfield anway (cough). She was Claire version 1.5. Because he'd jerked off thinking of that ridiculous redhead so often since he'd met her, that his guilt over Jessica dumping him made him feel, literally, like a cheater. He wasn't.

Though he'd drunken monkey fucked Elsa …what's-her-face twice more before sunrise to teach Jessica a lesson anyway. The third time, he'd pictured Claire Redfield the whole time. That braid above her ear, all those earrings, her perfect white teeth. He'd grunted like a pig and pumped between that girls thighs and promptly covered her in sweat and cum like a filthy porno.

He'd woken up with his head THROBBING and the air conditioner broken in his cheap apartment. And worse? He was already two hours late for his first day.

TWO HOURS.

By the time he threw on his uniform and ran for the door, he was three hours late. The forty five minute drive to Raccoon was filled with self hatred. Dumped and now fired: the Leon Kennedy special.

If he'd been paying better attention, he might have noticed the utter lack of traffic rushing with him to the sprawling metropolis.

He also might have been better prepared for the terrified leap of a woman in the way of his speeding Jeep on the rainy highway. But as it stood?

He wasn't.

He shouted. She screamed as the headlights ripped over her terrified face and waving arms. And the tires squealed, kicked sideways, and tore up pavement as he tried to fight against the storm and the road.

He failed. Big time.

The Jeep skidded, it rocked, and metal sparked like fire as it went over, flipping and rolling into the grass along the side of the highway to end up on its side in the pouring rain.

The tick of the engine filled the burning night. The roll bar had saved his life. He wasn't dead. He was hurt. He was trapped between the dash and the door, grunting and afraid…but he was alive.

The face appeared in the ripped soft top of the Jeep, desperate. "Oh my GOD! Are you ok!?"

Leon grunted, feeling the blood trickle down his face from the hit it had taken against the windshield mid flip. "Well…if I wasn't fired before, I will be now."

The eyes blinked at him, surprised. "What?"

"I'm late. For my first fucking day on the job."

"Oh…oh my god…you're a cop!?"

He rolled his eyes, wincing as he tried to shift toward her outstretched hand. She caught his and pulled. They managed to get him out of the wreckage of his Jeep, without him making too many painful grunts.

"I was. Not sure I will be for long though."

He rose, wiping at the blood on his nose. His Jeep was a fucking mess. It was crumped on one side and smoking on the other. The hood was smashed completely into the windshield. It had crumped like a accordion. He was lucky to be alive.

He turned toward the girl, "What the fuck were you doing out in the middle of the road anyway? It's a god damn monsoon out here."

Lightning flickered, splitting over the turbulent sky, accompanied by booming thunder – and the surprised face of Claire Redfield. He froze, watching her. "….you."

She blinked, lifting her hands in the pretty red leather jacket she wore, "I need your help."

"You kidding?" He reached into his crumped glovebox to pull his sidearm that was tucked there. He holstered it on his thigh, watching her in the rain. "I'm going to fucking arrest you."

Surprised, Claire shook her head, "What for!? I was hailing you for HELP! I didn't wreck your damn car! That was you! You were speeding so fast you had to be going at LEAST forty over the limit. You're a TERRIBLE driver!"

Leon shook his head, pointing at her with one partially gloved hand. His fingertips were exposed, but the rest were concealed in tactical gloves. All part of the RPD uniform he was wearing. The itchy uniform was complete with a Kevlar vest on his chest emblazoned with the Raccoon Police acronym.

"You leapt in the way of a speeding vehicle, Ms. Redfield. That's an offense." He was pretty sure it was some kind of offense. Pretty sure. The fact that he was speeding? Entirely irrelevant. Entirely.

"It's Claire, Officer Asshole, CLAIRE. Mrs. Redfield is my mother."

He shook his head, again, "Don't get an attitude with me, young lady. Or I'll add resisting arrest and assaulting an officer to your charges."

Her brows winged up into her pretty, braided, soaked hair, "You fucking kidding me here?! I didn't do anything wrong! My bike stalled out over there! My brother hasn't called me back in WEEKS! And I saw a caravan of paramilitary vehicles roar passed me over here about an hour ago toward the city. Something is WRONG, Officer. And I'm not going to stand here and let you arrest me to salve your ego because you are the worst driver in the world!"

Leon gripped her arm above the elbow, guiding her toward the road. "Show me the bike. I'll get it started and escort you to town. But you will be held there, in a cell, until I determine the charges. I nearly died, Ms. Redfield. And you're acting like you're not to blame."

"I'm not!" Claire jerked on her arm and he kept hold, eyeing her narrowly, "What's your damage, dude? You got a stick up your ass because you're late on your first day? Maybe if you didn't smell like the back room of a brewery, you'd have made it on time."

He froze, giving her a dark glare. "I'm not drunk."

"Dude- you smell like you bathed in bad scotch."

Leon shook his head, gnashing his teeth. The worst part here? She was kinda right. He wasn't drunk. He was HUNG OVER, but that was entirely her fault. One –for being alive. Two – for getting him dumped. Three – for causing his wreck. Surely, all these things were illegal.

He just needed to find the right charge to file against her.

He shook his head and jerked on her arm, putting her face down on the seat of her softail motorcycle. She shouted, angrily, "HEY!"

And he snapped the cuffs on her wrists. "That's enough of that. You're under arrest."

"FOR WHAT!?" She kicked at him as he pulled her up and poked her on the front of the bike. He climbed on behind her and prepared to start it.

"For…attempted solicitation of a police officer."

Claire blinked, twice, as he rose on the seat to give the bike a kick start. "….are you FUCKING serious?! Solicitation?!"

"That's right…you came on to me when I was in uniform."

"WHEN!?" She had to laugh. She had to. He was the stupidest man she'd ever met. "That NEVER happened! You big, fat, stupid liar!"

"Watch it with the language, missy." He instructed, "Or I'll add…verbal battery to the charges." These all sounded like legit things. Seriously. They did. She was in big trouble. Big time.

"….you are a disgusting TROLL of a man." Claire shook her head, fuming, "Officer Asshole fits you. But I should modify it to Officer Lying Asshole – since you need a first name…and you'll never start the bike that way, idiot. I tried that already."

He leaned over the seat and pulled on something below her eyeline. "Be quiet, girl. You have the right to remain silent. Use it."

"Blow me, jackass. And you can quote that in your report. Of course…you're probably fired anyway. Who are we kidding? Typical cop. Arresting someone because he's too drunk to drive."

"I am NOT drunk!" He shouted it and gripped the handle bar, lifting his butt, and kicked down on the bike. Claire opened her mouth to make fun of him again for trying – when the damn thing fired up with a pretty roar of sound.….damn him. He'd managed to get it started after all. Proving he was an asshole – but he knew about bikes.

He shot away from the road with her in front of him, fuming. She had to trust him to keep them upright with her impairing his control. Surprisingly, he handled the damn thing like a champ.

They whipped through the pouring rain, Claire gnashing her teeth.

Above the rain, she shouted, "You need a helmet, Officer ASSHOLE!"

They cruised toward the edge of town, too fast for the rain. But again, she was with the WORST driver in the world. So it shouldn't have surprised her.

And her next retort was swallowed down with a lump when the bike idled down and came to stop. In the center of the road, a woman lay face down in the rain. The lightning flickered and flashed, the thunder rolled, and the pinkish puddle around her told them she was lying in blood.

Leon hesitated, sitting behind her.

Claire said, softly, "Is she alive?"

"…I don't know."

Claire turned her head to look at him. His hair was in streamers around his face. She glanced back at the woman in the cutoff shorts. "Should-should you…you know…check?"

"And leave you alone?"

"….I'm fine. I promise. Just…is she alive?"

"….I don't know that either."

But he threw his leg off the bike anyway and pulled his firearm, easing forward in the torrential rain. He nudged the woman with his boot and finally ended up crouching to feel for a pulse in her neck. Nothing. Dead.

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part?

She made a small sound, like a moan.

Leon reached to roll her over, "She's alive! But she's hurt!" He shouted to Claire. But the woman was covered in bites. Animal? Had she been attacked by an animal?

Claire called bac k, voice quavering, "Officer?"

The woman turned her ruined face from the road and looked at him. Which wasn't possible. At all. Because she was dead. But her filmy eyes suggested she was also …undead.

And Claire shouted, "OFFICER!"

Desperate.

A desperate moment.

Because he lifted his gaze from the woman in his arms moaning like a monster…to see an army of them shambling from between buildings and around corners in the thundering rain toward them.

He whispered, "Jesus Christ…"

And the woman in his arms lunged for his face.

The girl on the bike shouted, "LEON!"

And the world narrowed down to a handful of seconds.

He shot twice with the gun trapped between himself and the woman lunging toward him snapping her teeth like a monster in face. She got her teeth into his vest and jerked, snarling like a dog. The bullets exploded out her back in a burst of blood that didn't splatter, but plopped, and the girl on the bike kicked the snapping woman off him.

Woman?

No.

ZOMBIE.

He scrambled up, grabbing for Claire's arm to jerk her back toward the bike. She climbed on in front him and he joined her, gunning the engine.

They didn't wait. They couldn't. They shot off into the dark while hands grabbed uselessly at their clothes.

Too close.

Too fucking close.

The rain turned so thick that he couldn't get far before he had to bring the bike to a halt under an over pass. The bridge muffled the roar of the sound with a metallic cushion as he climbed off, pacing.

Claire called, quietly, "HEY! Uncuff me, Officer. Now. Ok? Please? This isn't funny anymore. And I saved your life back there. Come on."  
Leon turned back to look at her. "You know who I am."

"Yeah. I do. Leon Kennedy, right? We met at the bar. I remember now. Nice to see you again. Uncuff me. Ok?" She wiggled her hands, "Come on. There's no more cops and bad guys here, Kennedy. Just you and me and the dead. You see all those fucking things back there? Zombies right? We're in the Walking Dead here. And I'm not pulling a Laurie and dying. So uncuff me, and let's see if we can get the hell outta here together."

Leon paused, considering things. Claire gave him a long look, "Come on, hotshot. Don't be stupid. Don't be a fucking hero. Uncuff me and run. I can't. I have to get to the RPD station. But you? You can get the hell outta here."

Leon shook his head, "I can't…I can't let you go alone. Why? Why would you? Come with me, and we'll take the back roads outta here."

"…I…" Claire hesitated and sighed, "I can't. My brother, remember? My brother is S.T.A.R.S. He's here. I know it. I have to find him."

Leon studied her for a long moment. HE should run. He should leave her and run. He should leave her to it and get the fuck outta here.

But he couldn't.

He just…couldn't. He was a COP. That had to mean something. It had to. He couldn't let her go alone. It wasn't hero stuff…it was cop stuff.

He shook his head and moved over to uncuff her. She rubbed her wrists when he did, hooking the cuffs back into his vest. "I'll…go with you. I have to go with you. I might be the last cop in this city. I can't let you go alone."

Surprised, Claire studied his face. Still handsome. He'd been so fucking cute in that bar, she'd had to flirt. He was still cute. Maybe more so. The bad driver/drunk on his first day thing? Totally hot for a girl who liked bad boys.

She shifted a little, "Ok. But…no more trying to arrest me, alright?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "I don't think that shit matters anymore, do you?"

He was shaking, which said he was scared. He was shaking, which said he was mortal. He was shaking, which told her he was brave to keep going. She liked the shaking. She liked the scared. It said he wasn't stupid. He was just noble.

"Not really. But you still want to play hero, huh?"

He shook his head, climbing on bike, but she shook her head and took the handlebars, forcing him to the back to hook his arms around her waist. "Not hero stuff. Just…cop s tuff. If…if I 'm still a cop…who the hell knows right? It's my first day on the job."

"Well, hold on sweetheart, I think this might be the shittiest first day of the job anyone ever had."

He laughed, without humor, holding on when she fired up the bike. "I guess it's a good god damn thing I was late."

Claire laughed, watching the shamble of corpses finally cross the hill top to start moving toward them under the bridge. "Jesus….you shoulda picked another day to be on duty, dude."

"No shit…" He watched the zombies lumber toward them as Claire kicked off and shot back into the rain. "Cluster fuck, right? Story of my life."


	4. Outbreak

Raccoon City  
........

Raccoon City, Pennsylvania

September 26, 2018 –

Outbreak  
.........

The first wreckage on the main road forced them to pull off. It was a loss. They were done traveling this way by vehicle. They'd have to hoof it on foot.

Claire rolled the bike in the pouring rain into the dark beside J's Bar. It was a return to the site of their fated social media snafu. Leon shook his head, sliding off the bike to star at the flickering sign.

He'd played darts here and lost. He'd lost more than the game, he'd lost a great portion of the things that mattered to him. He was currently ass deep in a nightmare, and there wasn't a person on Earth that cared about it. Who could he text? Could he text at all?

Curious, he reached into his vest for his phone - but it was gone. It was likely on the floorboard of his recently deceased Jeep.

Claire beat him to it anyway. She opened her iPhone and tried to get a message out to someone. It bleeped to signal success but it wouldn't let her do more than briefly scan her Twitter feed to see if anyone, anywhere, knew what the hell was happening. Instagram had pictures, naturally, but no one believed what they'd put. It was a great cosmic joke.

Someone had hashtagged it #survivalhorror and thought a movie was being filmed in Raccoon City.

Another person had put up a selfie of her pointing to a "body" in the road behind her that was starting to rise. She didn't look scared, she looked excited...like she'd walked onto the set of The Walking Dead. She captioned it "Evil Takes Residence in Raccoon. YIKES!".

Another photo showed a zombie literally in mid chomp on a person in the park. The photo was horrifying, not just for the subject matter, but because the photographer thought it was part of the "show". They captioned this one "The dead are rising! He #HANGRY! Get out there and find out how method these actors are, peeps! Come on! Join the fun! #4itchytasty."

Jesus. Social media had been the death of this city. No one, anywhere, knew what was really happening here.

Finally, Claire found a short clip uploaded hours before. It was army vehicles raising through the streets, it was accompanied by the voice of a popular YouTube-r named ConspiracyPirate. His voice floated up to them, "I said it would happen. I warned everyone. No one listened. I was laughed at, looked down on...I told you what I saw in the forest months ago, all of you. I went to the police. I went to the fucking Chief. I told that son of a bitch in the sunglasses that we weren't ALONE here. But he didn't listen. That idiot in S.T.A.R.S. I met? Redfield? That guy LAUGHED at me. Who's laughing now? HUH!? WHO'S LAUGHING NOW!? The end is nigh, assholes."

The video ended when a masked soldier snatched the phone and threw it to the ground to smash it with his boot. But not before they heard it. They heard the man in the video scream and the sound of gunfire.

Claire grabbed Leon's arm at the elbow, terrified. "They killed him."

"...I know."

"They killed this man for telling the truth."

"I know." He said again, so softly. His guts hurt with fear. "I know."

"What was that on his uniform? What is U.B.C.S.?"

Leon shook his head, "I don't know. Paramilitary forces of some kind. Your brother might know."

Claire looked stricken. Her face was wet from rain and fear. "You heard this guy...he tried. He saw Chris. He tried to tell him. Chris was S.T.A.R.S. He was the best this city had. If he's...if...what if..." She trailed off, looking lost.

Leon touched her back, gently. "Hey...hey look here."

She did, eyes wide. He held her gaze with purpose. "Hey...if he's as good as you say, he's alive. He's probably hiding somewhere. Where would he hide? Where's the safest place in this city?"

Claire took a deep breath and it trembled, "The RPD station."

"Right. Let's start there. Ok? But you gotta believe he's there and ok, Claire. You've got to believe that...or we won't make it."

Claire drew strength from him, nodding sharply. "Right. RIGHT. Shit."

They moved together to the bar entrance on the back side of the building. The door was ajar and Leon eased through first, gun drawn. They were both breathing sharply but he let the training take over to calm him. Training that said protect the girl at his side and get out alive.

Quietly, Claire whispered, "You have another piece?"

Leon glanced at her where she was slighting behind him. "What?"

"I'm a good shot. You have a spare gun?"

He shook his head and Claire shrugged. "Never hurts to ask, right?"

They eased into the kitchen of the bar, Leon astutely aware they weren't alone. He could hear voices and commotion toward the front. They shifted in together and Claire locked the door to the street that they'd come through.

Claire said, softly, "I know all of them. They're regulars. They probably holed up here to hide out."

Leon nodded and they eased through the quiet kitchen into the main part of the bar. In a handful of seconds, he and the other cop in the bar were staring down the barrels of each other's guns.

The blonde waitress between them lifted her hands, "Whoa...whoa whoa whoa...ease down guys. We're all humans here."

Claire added, "Hey Kevin, you planning to kill this rookie?"

Kevin Ryman lowered his weapon first. He was handsome, shaggy haired, and looked tired and wet. He glanced between Claire and Leon and shook his head, "The rookie. Kennedy?"

"Yup." Leon lowered his weapon too, "We met before I think."

"We did, briefly." Kevin shook his head, laughing without humor, "Shit...welcome to your first shift."

Another person in the bar scoffed, "I thought my luck was in the crapper man. What a first day."

Leon shook his head as Claire, the waitress, and another woman secured the side door to make sure it was locked. The bar had a handful of folks in it. An old guy, an off duty security guard, a subway worker and another waiter - this one male. The owner, Phil, was behind the bar looking tired and put out. But at least there were no dead guys trying to eat people.

Claire introduced each one. Cindy - the girl waitress. Will - the boy waitor. Bob - the half asleep old security guard at the bar counter. Mark - the younger guy with the start of a beer belly that reminded Leon of Ving Rhames. Jim - the subway worker with the hair the color of dandelions. His dark skin made his hair look neon. Alyssa- the reporter in the red suit that was trying to get a signal on her phone to contact her office. David King- a plumber that looked like a model in coveralls with a toolbelt on his narrow hips.

Leon remarked, "Anyone else in here?"

Cindy started to answer - and it didn't matter anymore. The world? It just...erupted.

Claire, a short distance away, briefly heard Will say, "What a weird costumer…"

Cindy screamed and jumped on a stool close to her. There was the sound of breaking glass as a rat scurried by.

Mark yelled, "Bob!" As the old man at the bar crumpled sideways and fell to the floor.

Jim was screaming. "KEVIN! KEVIN! Oh my god!"

Will was struggling with a customer who'd come in the front door. The door...that apparently wasn't locked.

Leon shouted, "What fucking idiot left that door open!?"

Claire had a moment to be surprised before Will was screaming and shoving. She watched blood fly and speckle the floor around him.

Kevin returned, "Lock the goddamn door!" And pulled his side arm, a Colt .45. He aimed it at the moaning customer. "Freeze R.P.D.!"

But Will wasn't finished, he kept shoving until the man was outside the door and then he slammed it closed and threw the dead bolt.

Horrified, Claire watched his neck gush blood. It was bad, soaking the front of his uniform almost instantly. Will stumbled, trying to stop the bleeding and collapsed to the floor. Claire started to rush toward him, but Kevin grabbed her arm.

She looked at his face, opened her mouth to say Will needed an ambulance, and Jim started screaming.

"Holy shit!"

There was a man on the other side of the window leading into the bar. He was running a face that looked like a mangled pizza over the shiny glass, leaving bits of flesh and trails of blood behind.

They heard someone screaming outside the glass as pandemonium ensued. A handful of seconds found Kevin yelling, "Somebody help me!"

He was shoving one of the giant barrels that served as window tables toward the main door. Claire realized it was actually genius of him considering in another minute, cannibals were going to be beating the flimsy wood down.

Without a word, she watched the plumber, David King, come running from the kitchen area. Leon joined the battle against the barrels, he just started shoving a second barrel as Kevin moved the first and David manned the third one.

Jim, not the bravest soul, was still being surprisingly helpful. He was pulling the injured Will back and laying him behind the bar.

Claire watched at least ten more faces move up and starting pressing against the glass. The cannibals were trying to beat through the windows and didn't seem to care that they were bloodying their selves in the process.

Their numbers were growing. Ten became fifteen, became twenty.

Jim yelled, "Oh my god! Mr. Clark!"

And Alyssa was crying out, "John Stevens?!"

People started yelling for Kevin and David to unblock the door. Leon returned, "They aren't your friends! You know that! What's out there?! It's not HUMAN!"

Claire knew what she was looking at. And it wasn't their friends or lovers beating on the windows. It was something else, something hungry. And whatever had happened to them, it was contagious. Cannibals...no...zombies. ZOMBIES.

Phil was crying and holding his hand. It looked like a nasty rat bite.

He wrapped a dish towel around it, cursing.

There was a loud yelp in the bathroom and a clatter before a small asian girl scurried out, holding a scrub brush like a weapon.

She said, "There's someone trying to crawl in through the vent in the bathroom." She sounded calm, which was amazing.

Mark was shouldering up Bob and Cindy ran around the bar and popped open the cash register. She grabbed the key to the staff room and the first aid kit that was stuffed on a bottom shelf.

Whatever was happening out there they all knew they couldn't hide in here forever. Eventually the barrels would give and the windows would crash in.

There were at least fifty cannibals gathered outside the bar. No...ZOMBIES. Claire kept trying to shift over to Will and help him, but Leon wouldn't let go of her arm as he kept her away. "He's gone."

"Stop it!" Claire jerked on her limb, "He's still alive!"

Leon gave her a cool look that resonated, "...he won't be for long. But keep waiting, Claire, we both know he'll get back up soon enough."

She jerked her arm away and shoved him, "What kind of cop leaves people to die?"

"...the kind that knows you can't save everyone." Kevin filled in the silence and Claire spun away from them, fuming.

Cindy tossed the key to Alyssa and said, "People listen. We have to get to the roof, it's the only way. We can make the jump to the building across the street and go out the back way toward the Apple Inn."

Mark helped Bob as Alyssa unlocked the door. She was the first one through and everyone seemed to understand that it was seriously important that they move as quickly as possible.

The back stairway was narrow and Cindy waited while the Asian girl, Claire, a nerdy looking man with what looked like a leather doctor's case, Phil and Jim ran through.

Mark and David put Bob between them to move faster and Kevin kept his .45 trained on the windows as he gestured for Leon to go.

Leon took the lead, doing his job, and trusted Kevin to bring up the rear and do his.

Kevin backed in after Cindy and helped her push the statue at the base of the stairs forward until it blocked the door behind them. It was all they could do.

Leon didn't like leaving Will behind but the man was dead or dying, his jugular completely severed. The cannibal had bitten right through. He figured they could all ask for atonement later.

Claire hurried up the stairs with Kevin close behind her. At the landing where the stairs curved, Jim was screaming.

One of the cannibals had busted through the glass of the window and was trying to yank him out through the jagged hole. Cindy was yelling and pulling on Jim's shirt, trying to hold him still and pull him back.

Kevin stopped and went still, aiming over Claire's shoulder but it was a bad angle and a tight shot. He'd be lucky not to hit Jim in the struggle. Leon was doing his best to angle in for a shot himself, but it was too narrow and too risky.

Surprisingly, David saved the day.

He pulled a wrench out of the tool belt slung at his hip and hit the cannibal in the back of the head. It screamed and released Jim, reaching for David. Leon elbowed it in the side of the head and sent it reeling even as it tried to make a grab for Claire.

Kevin moved quickly and kicked, hitting the ugly monster in the chest with a solid hip kick. It flailed it's arms and fell outward, screaming pitifully as it tumbled down into it's wailing brothers.

Jim grappled on Kevin's shoulders, sputtering. "Oh god thank you. The smell…it smelled…like…"

David's voice, gruff and deep, "Death."

Jim nodded, rapidly. Leon shoved him toward the stairs to the top floor. Claire shoved Leon as he grabbed for her arm to push her that way too, and shouted, "Enough! Stop manhandling me!"

There was a crash from the front of the bar. They'd broken through the barricade.

Sick of it, Kevin started pushing everyone. "Go! Go now!"

Cindy rushed up the stairs between David and Kevin, feeling her heart rate increase, fast and furious. Alyssa was closed behind, shaking her head at the drama that some people brought with him. That girl in the red leather? She clearly did NOT like the handsome cop she'd brought into the bar with her.

At the top of the stairs, Alyssa's cell phone started to ring.

She fumbled it out of her pocket and made a dash for the hallway to the break room.

Cindy was standing there waiting.

There were boards scattered around the floor by the door. Phil had been in the process of building a bookcase for the employees to store break time reading material.

She said, "Somebody help me."

And David stopped to hold the boards over the entrance to the hallway. They were going to attempt to shore up the open archway. Why not? It was better than standing around waiting to die.

There was the loud sound of nail gun firing as Alyssa answered her phone.

Claire stumbled back against the wall as Jim rushed into Phil's office with Phil, looking for anything useful. The little Asian girl was entering the drawing room with Alyssa. There was a shot gun in the drawing room. Phil had it locked up in a cabinet in there. Unfortunately, the key was downstairs, taped under the counter. She hoped they knew how to break it open.

The nerdy doctor guy was sitting on the floor, digging through his leather case. He pulled out a scalpel and a bottle of some white liquid.

Claire tried to gather her composure as Leon busted out the glass on the shotgun cabinet so they could grab it.

Cindy was unlocking the door to the stair way to the roof.

Jim was carrying what looked like a small handgun and Phil was brandishing a broom. He looked seriously ill, pale and trembling. The bite on his hand had bled through the towel wrapped around it.

Mark said, "Claire- take my gun."

She did what he asked as he helped Bob back up and carried most of the older man's weight. The comfort of the gun made her feel like she just might survive this nightmare. Maybe.

The gun was loaded and she clicked off the safety. It was maybe the third time in her life she'd held a real gun outside of the range with Chris. But the feel of it, cool and heavy, made her feel just a little safer.

The side of the barrel read Beretta.

The Asian girl and Alyssa emerged from the drawing room. Alyssa held Phil's shotgun and the girl was packing extra cartridges into her backpack. Leon was carrying a crossbow in his hands. He queried, "Anybody a hunter?"

And the nerdy doctor took the crossbow, nodding. "Not sure it's the same as big buck hunting."

Leon patted his arm, "Shoot it, kill it - don't skin it and eat it. And don't let it eat you."

The nerdy doctor chuckled, "Wise words."

Cindy waved her arm. "Come on, let's go!"

The nerdy doctor was wielding the crossbow. David had a small folding knife that he'd pulled out of his tool belt - that was full of other useful items they'd yet discovered. Kevin was holding his .45. Claire and Leon both had guns. There was a shotgun in the hands of a reporter. As far as weapons went, it wasn't too bad.

Kevin went through the door first with Mark and Bob following. Leon took up the rear.

Claire waited until everyone was through before she followed. There was nothing to put in front of the door this time so she hurried to stay close to everyone else.

Down in the staff room, she could hear the high moaning of the cannibals as they beat on the make shift barricade between them and their prey.

There was a loud snap as one of the boards broke free and she slammed the large door at the top of stairs behind her. They were in the liquor room, where Phil stocked all the alcohol for the bar. Cindy was explaining that from here it was a brief run up another flight of stairs to the roof.

David was dragging a box toward the door. It was a case of liquor and the nerdy doctor moved to help him, pushing while David pulled. Leon and Kevin were deeper in the liquor room, clearing it and looking for anything useful.

From the front of the liquor room, Claire heard Cindy scream.

"The shutters down! The fucking shutter is down!"

Cindy looked terrified. She told them the shutter being closed was a nightmare. The button for the shutter was down in the owner's room, inside Phil's desk drawer, and the cannibals had started breaking through the boards.

They could hear their moaning on the stairs outside the liquor room.

Phil was leaning on the wall, panting. He said, softly, "Cindy…the forklift key. The key. In the stock room."

She jumped and realized he was right.

At the far side of the room, a forklift sat dormant frozen in mid lift with a shipment. If they got the key and started the lift, they could climb up onto the boxes and crawl through the open vent leading to the stairs.

It was the best plan they had so Cindy said, "Guard the door. I'll be right back."

She ran into the door opposite the one leading the stairwell.

It was little more then a cram space with coolers. She started digging through boxes and shoving over bottles in her search for the key.

Phil usually kept it somewhere close when the workers came to restock.

She found it sitting on the table at the far side of the room and snatched it up, already running.

David was leaning against the boxes and the nerdy doctor was sitting on the floor with his back against them. The door beyond them was shaking as the cannibals banged incessantly, trying to get in. Kevin added his bulk to the barricade to help hold the door closed.

Cindy ran past them and saw that Bob was in pretty bad shape, he was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. She didn't think he could make the climb to the top of the storage wall.

Phil stumbled a little and smashed into the wall. Liquor bottles fell, making a very loud crash as the smashed into tiny shards on the hard floor.

Cindy yelped and Jim started mumbling. Claire thought he said something about his life being shit even as Cindy tossed Leon the key and he was already putting the key into the lift and pressing the button.

The hum of the forklift moving was loud in the quiet room. Loud enough it almost drowned out the desperate moans of the cannibal's just outside.

Mark was lifting Bob and the nerdy doctor was helping Phil.

Cindy said, "I'm going to go through and open the shutter from the other side."

David yelled, "Hurry this won't hold much longer. There's got to be at least a dozen of them beating against this door." Leon returned to help throw more weight against the door.

Cindy hurried.

She scrambled up the ladder with the Claire close behind her.

Cindy said, "Claire wait!"

But Claire was already fox crawling after her. "No way! If there's something on the other side of the shutter, you're dead. I can't let you go alone."

She had a good point.

Cindy shifted herself and lowered backward through the open vent, easing herself down until her feet touched.

It was cooler on this side; there was a suggestion of night air from the open roof just beyond the door at the top of the stairs. The area was grey and dull and wonderfully empty.

Cindy scurried down to open the shutter as Claire came through the vent and found her footing.

It whined on badly oiled hinges as it rolled upward. When it was halfway open, Jim crab walked through with the nerdy doctor and Phil close behind.

There was a loud crash somewhere inside the liquor room and the low boom of Kevin's .45, the deeper, harder shot of the shotgun following it closely. Alyssa had taken up guarding the door with Kevin, David, and Leon.

The little Asian girl hurried through and helped Mark shoulder up Bob as they passed through the shutter.

Cindy yelled, "Up the stairs, out the door! It's the roof! Hurry! Go!"

No one argued and they followed Cindy, letting her show them the door.

Claire waited tensely until she saw Alyssa and David come around the corner of the room and mount the stairs to the shutter.

"Where's Kevin and Leon?"

Alyssa said, "They were right behind us."

Claire nodded. "Go!" And she ran back into the liquor room, holding the Beretta tightly in her sweating palms.

Kevin was backing down the walkway toward the stairs to the shutter, firing rapidly, reloading and firing again. When he saw Claire, he nodded to her and raced off to protect the rest of the group on the stairs.

Leon was too close to the mess of them, too close, and the sight of it nearly killed Claire where she stood. He kept firing into the mass of them though - stupid hero cop. She shouted, "IDIOT! RUN!"

Leon yelled, "I'll hold them here! Go on!"

Claire shook her head, "Leon- let's go! The roof is right outside. All we have to do is jump to the next building!"

She froze as she saw the cannibals stumbling drunkenly toward Leon, tripping stupidly over their fallen friends.

His aim hadn't failed him under panic. Most of them had been dispatched with a neat shot to the forehead or through the eye.

He'd taken out eight maybe nine of them and from the ruin of bodies piled by the door, most of their chests a bloody stain on the wall behind them, she figured Alyssa had taken out a few more with the shotgun.

Leon took out the closest one to them and it fell, causing three more that shambled close beside it to lose their footing and collapse. It was a heap of cannibals now and an effective barrier to the rest that stumbled and wailed behind them.

Liquor fell off shelves, smashing and startling the stupid creatures. Brain dead dumbasses that they were, they tried to climb over their struggling comrades to feast. It was horror movie bad. It was worth a stare or two.

Claire grabbed Leon's arm and they turned and ran. Leon paused long enough to press the button and close the shutter behind them and then they were sprinting up the stairway and smashing through the door to the roof.

She heard the crying before she focused on where it was coming from.

Mark was holding Bob and sobbing.

There was a large splash of blood on the wall behind them. For a moment, she thought they'd been attacked but there was too much blood and too little on Bob for that.

It didn't take Leon long to realize what had happened. Bob had shot himself.

The grief tried to well up, tried to grab the group by the throat and was fought back, desperately. There wasn't time to mourn, wasn't even time to think about mourning.

Kevin was touching Mark's shoulder, trying to get him to stand.

David had bent down to scoop up Bob's still smoking side arm. Waste not, want not.

It was cold and heartless, maybe, but it was also practical. They needed the weapon, Bob no longer did. David and Leon exchanged a nodding glance. Easier, Claire thought, for the rookie. He didn't know these people. He didn't know Bob had a tendency to make bad puns and talk too much about his grandkids. He wouldn't mourn him. Maybe it was better to be the rookie.

Mark seemed to get himself together. He said, "Goodbye old friend. I won't forget you."

Alyssa was yelling from somewhere up ahead. "Help!"

They started running again. No time to despair.

The Asian girl was swinging her arms desperately at the crows that seemed to have gone crazy. They were dive bombing, pecking and squawking madly.

Claire lifted the gun at one that was currently trying to yank the Asian girl's hair out of her head. Trusting in the weapon, she fired.

The crow squawked madly and fell, hitting the ground with a thump and a rapid flutter of wings before it went still.

Leon glanced at her in surprise and she shrugged, "I told you I was a good shot."

The nerdy doctor had found a pipe somewhere and was swinging it like a baseball bat, smacking the crazy birds out of the sky.

Kevin and David were kicking at the gate that hung loosely to the walk way on the roof. They needed to get passed the gate and make a run for the other rooftop.

It was about a four foot jump to the opposing roof top but it was possible to make.

The gate came crashing down and David leapt up, helping Cindy up after him. Jim was quick to follow with Mark on his heels. The nerdy doctor smashed the remaining crow out of the sky and leapt up after them with Alyssa and the Asian girl in hot pursuit. Leon was the first to the far side, cradling his hands for the first brave soul to make the jump.

Kevin was helping Claire up when they heard it: a moan, so close, too close.

Claire scrambled the rest of the way up and looked for Phil.

He was shambling toward them, slowly. Moving like…like one of the cannibals.

In horror, Cindy yelled, "Phil!"

But his eyes were glazed over, like fish eyes, and he was keening highly in his throat. It was a hungry sound. An unmistakable sound.

Kevin yelled, "Go!"

And the rest of the group starting running for the opposite side of the roof.

He grabbed Claire's arm and she hesitated, yanking against him.

"Claire- he's gone! We gotta go!"

She stared at Phil, at his familiar face, so sweet, so chubby. She couldn't leave him, not like this.

She said, "Wait please." And it sounded calm.

She lifted the gun, aimed at Phil's head, said, "I'm sorry Phil. I'm so sorry." And fired.

Brains and blood splattered the wall behind Phil and he went down, crashing loudly against the roof top.

She couldn't help him but she could give him peace.

Kevin took her arm, gently this time. "Claire…"

"Let's go." She rushed past him, hurrying to where the other's were waiting.

She was terrified, her heart beating a hundred miles an hour. She wanted Chris and he was somewhere out there, alive or dead. She had to find him.

The door to the roof banged open and the cannibal wails chased them across the roof.

They only had once chance- they had to make that jump or they'd die eaten to death by monsters. By cannibals. No...damn it...they KNEW what was chasing them.

ZOMBIES.

It was a nightmare. There was no hope.

And they had officially entered the world of survival horror.


	5. Chapter 5

Raccoon City

.......

Raccoon City, Pennsylvania

September 26, 2018 –

Ride or Die  
.......

Claire watched the Asian girl make a desperate leap and fall, grasping desperately at the edge of the opposite building with one hand. She yelled and David was there helping her up.

It had been easy for him to make the leap. He was lithe and quick on his feet.

Alyssa tossed the shot gun to the waiting girl and leapt after her, grasping easily and pulling herself up. Jim went next, jumping and having David grab his arms when he just missed.

Mark, bigger and heavier, needed David and Jim to help him when he didn't make it.

The nerdy doctor made the leap without much effort and landed just on the other side on his knees. He scrambled up as Claire stepped forward to jump.

Cindy was shouting for her to hurry.

Leon stood, ready, with his hands cradled. The rain whipped his hair around his face. The cleft in his chin that she'd adored that night she met him was flecked with blood from the dead. He gave her calm eyes, in the middle of this madness, and she saw the flicker of something on him that she couldn't place.

What was it? A story where he was the hero? Something. It said he was incredible under pressure. It said he was terrified, in the flicker of his mouth and the sweat on his brow, but he was holding it together for the people he was protecting. Not just a cop - a hero cop.

He encouraged, quietly, "Come on, Claire. I'll toss you. You''ll make it, I promise."

She believed him. Why? Again, she couldn't explain it. But she believed him.

In the alley below them, cannibals moaned and shoved around each other, waiting for someone to fall, waiting to eat them alive.

Claire shook off the fear, slipped the Beretta into the back of her pants, threw her boot into his waiting hands - and pushed off. Strong, he tossed her up and out like she was nothing. The world whipped in color and rain and fear - and she missed the roof and grabbed the edge, dangling.

But not for long. Because she wasn't alone here.

David grabbed her, pulling her up just as Claire thought it was over and she was going to fall.

She clung to him for just a moment before letting him go.

She handed the Beretta back to Mark just as Kevin jumped and fell into a shoulder roll as he landed, coming up on his feet. The last off the the line, Leon backed up to leap as the dead poured against the gate behind him. He hit the roof in a roll and skidded to his feet.

They all stood for a moment, staring at the roof top of the bar where the cannibals were all shambling around, apparently too dumb to make the climb up to the walk way toward them.

Jim was the first to speak. "Come on my crew!"

He sprinted toward the doorway that would take them into the building.

Somewhere down below a voice came over a megaphone.

"This is the Raccoon City Police Department. Temporary aid stations have been constructed around the city. We are holding out until help arrives. Your nearest station is three blocks east. If anyone's alive come to the Apple Inn for an evacuation."

It sounded like a plan.

They shoved through the door and left the police man's voice behind.

Inside Jim was already stabbing at the elevator pad and pretty much dancing as they waited.

Claire wasn't going to be evacuated, she was going to Chris. He was at the station. Her mind refused to accept that he might be dead.

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. They all piled in and David hit the button for the bottom floor. The traumatized group stood as it lowered, impossibly quiet, impossibly loud.

Alyssa remarked, "Nobody better fart on this damn elevator, I swear to god."

And someone laughed.

Claire felt rain water drip down her nose and looked up from where she was checking the clip on her gun. Leon was watching her, quietly. The soft light from the elevator cast his hair in shadow. He didn't look blonde in this light. He looked dark haired. But his eyes were beautiful. Thick lashed and very, very blue under the sharp curve of his brows. She forgot he was kind of a jerk and simply enjoyed his face.

He murmured, "You ok?"

And she shrugged a shoulder, lightly. "Is there a right answer to that question?"

He scoffed, shaking his head, "No. But alive is all we got right now."

"You aren't kidding about that." She tucked a hand into her back pocket and liberated her phone, handing it to him. "See if you can get anyone at the station. I tried the S.T.A.R.S. office but no one answered."

Leon dialed swiftly, head ducked. "I'll try the bullpen."

Claire considered the downward tilt of his profile for a moment as he dialed and wasn't really aware that her hand had shifted to the cleft in his chin. It swept there, just her thumb, and brought his eyes swiftly to her face in surprise.

She flushed, feeling a little light headed, and murmured, "Sorry...just...it-old blood."

The corner of his mouth lifted, just a bit. "...right. Thanks."

Kevin coughed a little and they stopped staring at each other. The nerdy doctor was treating claw marks on the reporter's forearm from the crows. The little asian girl was helping Mark ring out the wet shirt of his uniform and put it back on. Cindy was watching Claire with a smirk on her face.

David was doing something with his tool belt, taking a piece of Phil's broken broom and his knife. Claire watched with raised brows as he made a make shift spear out of them, wrapping the knife around the wood with duct tape.

She had a moment to think he was awfully handy before the doors opened.

Three cannibals turned and started for them, keening loudly with their arms out like they were stumbling through a dark room.

Alyssa said, "Move!"

And the Asian girl ducked, along with Cindy. Leon tugged Claire against him and put her against the wall to shield her with his body. Kevin and David swung free of her spread pattern.

Alyssa opened fire on the three cannibals, who had gathered closely together to shamble down the narrow hallway to the elevator.

They wailed and fell as the buckshot tore through their chests, tore away pieces of their stomachs. Blood splashed like paint on the window behind them.

They all started running before the last body fell, leaping and moving as quickly as possible over the corpses.

The nerdy doctor was the first to reach the door and he shoved it open as a window crashed open with a tinkle of breaking glass and a cannibal dove through, clawing along the ground toward them.

Claire kept running as a flash lit the air around her and was followed by the boom of Kevin's .45 and the lighter echo of Leon's 9mm. She picked off one herself as it grunted and dove at her ankles from an open doorway.

She barreled through the door way and stumbled a little on the steps as she rushed down to street below.

The air outside stank like burning hair, like rotten milk. She started to gag when she saw a man standing there, shooting continuously.

He wore a uniform, he was a cop. He saw them all huddled on the stoop and yelled, "Ryman! Good! We need all the help we can get!"

He reloaded as he spoke.

Claire turned her eyes to the carnage in front of them. Three cannibals had downed a man and were feasting on him while he screamed and blood sprayed in a fine mist.

At least fifty more were coming, shambling down the street about a hundred yards away.

Leon ranged himself beside the man who turned his head and laughed, "Rookie! You're about to earn your newb status, kid! Helluva way to say hello!"

His name tag told Leon he was Frick.

Frick yelled, "Push those cars and make a barricade! Do it now!"

Claire started running with David and Leon close beside her. They ran in between a sideways police unit toward the one waiting farther up.

While Claire and David pushed, Leon randomly picked off cannibals that got too close. She put her back into it, shoving hard and fast.

There was a crunch as on car hit another, effectively blocking the on coming cannibals.

They turned and sprinted back toward the way they'd come.

Claire saw that the Asian girl, the nerdy doctor, and Jim had already pushed another car in place, making a second barricade while Kevin covered them.

David, Leon, and Claire climbed over the hood of one of the blocking cars and ran after the retreating police officer and the rest of their group.

They ran left through a wooden gateway, a go between that would take them out to the road and the reservoir. With little choice, they were being unceremoniously cattle herded toward the city center.

Frick the cop waved them through and slammed the wooden door behind, doing up the chain and locking it quickly.

"They're getting closer! We gotta go now!"

He turned and backed up slowly, firing as the cannibals crawled under the doorway, through the vents in the walls beside the door. It was Night of the Living Dead. It was Army of Darkness. It was horrible. They couldn't even take a moment to breathe here.

Frick had a shot gun like Alyssa. He blasted corpses and shouted orders. Whatever he was in the RPD, he was clearly a leader of men.

Jim yelled, "Oh my god it's blocked!"

Claire turned and looked. The road ahead was blocked completely by a jackknifed sixteen wheeler that slowly leaked gasoline onto the concrete beneath it.

A gas tanker. A gas…tanker.

Her mind raced, thinking, desperately. She dug in her hip pocket for her lighter...but it was in the saddlebag of her bike.

Frick was screaming. Claire spun back to the horror of it.

The cannibals had him by the ankles, one had him pinned on the ground and was chewing into his arm.

Kevin and Leon and anyone else with a gun was firing, reloading, firing, desperately trying to hold the horde at bay. But it was a losing battle. They just kept coming.

The Asian girl was swinging her back pack like a weapon.

David was stabbing at them with his make shift spear.

The dying man on the ground screamed desperately, fighting, but losing, "Fuck me! I'm done for! Get the fuck outta here! Hurry! Leak the gas and burn these bastards!"

Apparently, Claire and Frick were sharing thoughts by telepathy.

A lighter skipped across the ground from his fingers and he screamed once more as a cannibal bit into his shoulder.

Claire started to run to him, to help somehow but he was already dead, his eyes empty and dull in the bloody mask of his face.

She snatched up the lighter and started running as she yelled.

"I'm going to leak the gas! Everyone get in the water! Hurry!"

But the nerdy doctor had already turned the handles on the tanker and Claire watched the thick liquid gush forward, spilling all across the ground in a river. It slid over the cannibals, over the dead man- it turned pavement to rainbow pretty in the swirling darkness.

She skidded to a halt, watched the Asian girl and David dive into the water of the reservoir. The rest were quick to follow, only Leon staying long enough to snatch up the dead man's shot gun.

He spun back to look at her and she yelled, "GO! I'm right behind you! GO NOW!"

He did, bless him. That hero cop knew when to take an order after all.

Claire looked at the shambling horde and tossed the lighter even as she dove sideways into the water.

She went under; water going into her nose, as there was a strange deafness that comes just before giant explosion. But the WHOMP of pressure was unmistakeable. It hit the tanker. The tanker squealed. The fire destroyed. And the sky was split by fire and death.

She kept her head under as debris rained down atop the water, churning it, singing her hair. She came up to the sound of dying cannibals, looked up and managed to catch a glimpse of one burning, burning as it stumbled, burning as it fell.

It was the most horrible thing she'd ever seen. The night smelled of gas and burning flesh. She gagged and Leon gripped her jacket to pull her into motion beside him. She swam, head swirling with fear.

The fire was out of control, they had to get out before it erupted and took them all with it.

Kevin was yelling, his voice quiet over the loud crackle of the fire above them.

He was gesturing to one of the open archways into the sewer. It was their only chance.

Claire swam for the archway. Leon boosted her up and she stuck her hand down to help him in. He caught her around the hips and kinda threw her forward as the warning silence told them things were about to fall apart. They were out of time.

She stumbled and Leon curled around her back like a shield as the heat burst through the tunnel around them.

There was a sound that was vaguely cartoon like, almost a whomp of pressure, and she went to her knees and rolled the rest of the way as the force of the tanker exploding sent a massive gust of air through the tunnel. It threw them both out like they were nothing.

She came out skidding and hit the ground hard on her butt, wincing at the pain that spread up her spine. Leon hit on his side, skidding into the far wall to hit with a thunk and a grunt of pain.

They were all there, some on the ground, rubbing sore body parts, others standing, keeping guard. The rank odor of decay and defecation filled the nostrils and left an oily taste of disgust behind. Try as you might, you couldn't block the odor.

She noticed the horrible smell right before Alyssa said, "It smells like an old man's ass down here."

Someone laughed.

"It's the sewers." Kevin was already walking. "It'll take us right out in front of the Apple Inn."

Jim was limping a little. "Jesus, anyone got any weed? I wouldn't say no to a blunt or two right now."

Mark was silent, plodding along behind them.

Claire moved along, rubbing her spine. "I'm not going to the Inn. My brother is at the station. I have to get to the station."

Kevin stopped, looked at her for a long moment. "Listen, let's go up there. See what's going on. If it looks bad, we can get them to drop us at the station."

Jim said, tiredly, "Fuck that. I'm getting out of this city."

Claire was shaking her head. "That cop said there's blocks up everywhere. They aren't letting anyone in or out."

Alyssa cursed. "What's going on out there?"

Cindy had started shaking and Mark put his arm around her.

"I don't know." Claire brushed wet hair out of her eyes, "But I'm not going anywhere without Leon."

The asian girl mused, "Is Leon your brother?"

Her brain clicked, telling her she'd mispoken. She'd...she'd said the wrong damn name. Flushing, Claire corrected herself, "Sorry. Chris. My brother Chris. I'm not leaving without him."

Leon said nothing, pacing in the tunnel behind her. Lord. She was out of it. That was her only excuse here.

Kevin stared at her for a moment longer and nodded. "Okay. So we get up there, we find a car and get to the station. If we can't leave the city, we can at least wait for help there."

Claire nodded, grateful. "Okay. Thank you."

They all started walking, each other them keeping their peace for a long while.

After ten minutes of walking, Alyssa spoke, "Does anyone have a phone? Mine's fucking trash. I need to call and see if there's anyone alive at the paper. If anyone knows what's going on out there, journalists do."

Claire said quietly, "You can try mine. Though I think it's ruined from the water." She handed it over.

The Asian girl and the nerdy doctor were talking quietly up ahead.

Claire said quietly, "What's your names? We've been through all this so far and I don't even know your names."

"I'm Yoko." Said the Asian girl with a smile, "And you saved me from that bird. Thank you."

"No problem."

"I'm George." The doctor shook her hand, gently, "And it figures that the one night I decide to have a beer after a bad day, something like this happens."

Cindy was plodding along beside them. "Well don't worry George. It's a first for the rest of us too."

Leon laughed, dryly, "It's defintely a first for me."

Yoko looked at him sympathetically, "How awful. Considering a career change?"

Leon laughed, shaking his head, "Big time."

Alyssa pursed her lips and laughed, "Go with modeling, hotstuff. Just sayin."

Yoko piped in, "Definitely modeling."

Kevin snorted a little, "Put a pretty face in front of someone, and they swoon."

Leon rolled his eyes, glancing at Claire. "No comment?"

She shrugged a shoulder, "It's a nice face...for a butt chin."

He laughed, shaking his head, "...women."

He moved forward and Alyssa tilted her head at Claire, "He your guy?"

Claire laughed, shaking her head, "No. He's just some cop I met on the road. Why?"

"...he's fucking gorgeous."

Yoko nodded, looking about twelve years old. "Yes. Like a romance novel cop."

Claire shrugged, "I didn't notice."

Both women gave her such a long stare that she finally lifted her hands, "Ok. Ok. I noticed. But it doesn't matter. With everything happening right now...it sooooo doesn't matter."

Alyssa studied Leon in the ugly lighting. He managed to look good even filthy, tired, flecked in blood and walking in ankle deep water filled with shit. She chuckled, "Girl - moments like this? That's when anything that makes you forget you're fucked matters most."


	6. Chapter 6

Raccoon City  
.....

Raccoon City, Pennsylvania

September 26, 2018 –

Who Let the Dogs Out?  
.....

They talked a little more as they walked. Mostly about stupid stuff, inconsequential things. But really it was just anything to keep the silence at bay.

It was a short climb up the ladder and onto the street.

Surprisingly, it was quiet. Claire couldn't hear the moaning or the screaming or smell the death that had become second nature since less than an hour before. Whatever madness lurked, it hadn't made it this far west yet. It would...but for now? It was still a moment of serenity in a nightmare of noise.

Alyssa handed the phone back. "It works but no one answered. Probably all dead." Claire could hear the pain in that statement. "Let's get this bitch on a roll."

She strutted off and Claire sighed, staring at the phone. Chris- where are you? I hope you're okay.

She hurried along after the rest of the group, praying with all her might that he'd be at the station, and waiting.

There was no hope for the quiet to continue. The sounds of the dead shambling gave Claire pause as she reached the base of breezeway that the city had constructed over the highway. It would allow you pause, in a tunnel made of glass, and look down at the main bridge leaving Raccoon. It was an architectural marvel. Hailed as a "window to a new world of visual splendor."

As they stood on it, looking down, it was a window to a new world of visceral horror.

The main bridge was loaded with the dead. It was shoulder to shoulder like a club that was passed occupancy. It was clearly where everyone had gathered trying to seek asylum and escape before the army had closed the bridge and cut off the ferry. There was no in or out now. There was no escape. They'd trapped these people on the bridge and left them for dead.

Most of them were. They were dead - or undead.

A safe haven had become a hopeless breeding ground for horror. There were things out there that Claire couldn't make sense of as she stared. Babies swaddled in filthy diapers that gnawed like tiny beasts on the ankles of the grown. There were a handful of people still alive - silenced by the glass tube in which they stood- watching as blood sprayed and the living joined the dead.

A woman was half thrown over the hood of a car, screaming and kicking, even as her body was split by fingers that dug into the flesh of her belly and pulled the sticky strands of her intestines free from the exposed cavity to the lips of the dead like an appetizer. Claire watched her face as she jerked, spasming, and died twitching and weeping.

But she was still alive as she watched them begin to devour her innards. She was still alive to see them eat her.

Somebody was weeping softly. Cindy - mostly likely. It was something horrible to see, that was for sure.

Claire turned away, unable to keep staring. Her hands were trembling. She bumped into Leon who was standing slightly behind her. His gloved palm turned over and gripped hers, even though they didn't look at each other. But it worked. For both of them. The trembling eased up in her hands and the sweat on his spine cooled down.

She whispered, "...thanks. I'm ok."

"Yeah?"

"...yeah."

They both let go.

They moved down the stairs on the opposite end of the breezeway. She'd loved it as a girl. Chris had stood there with her when he'd gotten the job in S.T.A.R.S., arm around her shoulders. "Kid - this is it. We're on our way to better things. It's college for you, Claire Redfield. Make me proud and change the world."

She'd laughed and shook her head, "No pressure, right?"

"You kidding? Nothing but pressure. I'm paying for this show, C-Bear. You better entertain me."

Raccoon City wasn't their heaven - it was a doorway to hell.

On the other side of the breezeway, a handful of emergency workers were waiting. They were suddenly looking at a possible escape again. Maybe.

They lucked into an ambulance looking for survivors. The driver was happy to let them aboard. Sadly, the roads were such a complete disastor...it was impossible to go anywhere significant.

The truck didn't get far before they hit the blocks around the city.

Car crashes and burning buildings and piles of bodies became usual scenery. No one in the back of the truck spoke much when it finally came to a final halt or when the man opened the doors and said, "You'll have to walk from here."

The group emerged onto the street and tried to get their bearings.

Claire thought they weren't too far from the station. It was just around the next street corner.

She said, "If we head that way we can get to the station."

Kevin was already nodding, digging through the truck with Mark and Alyssa and David, looking for extra weapons.

"We could run up and across the footbridge to get to Main Street but it's probably a mad house over there. If we stick to the alleys, they'll take us right out beside the station."

Claire nodded and accepted the gun he handed her. It looked like Mark's gun so she figured it was another Beretta.

Yoko was holding a slim barreled gun that looked like a revolver.

George had been given another shot gun and was loading it while he waited.

Jim was stuffing mags for his hand gun into his jean pockets and the pockets on his work uniform.

David had found a slim black duffel bag and was loading it with extra ammunition and anything else he could find.

Leon was putting extra rounds into Yoko's backpack and into the pockets of his uniform.

Claire took her queue from them and started stuffing magazines into a small fanny pack that she clipped to her hip, as Cindy filled her smock with bandages and other medicines.

They were all thinking pretty much the same thing. This might be the last chance they got to stock up.

When they all had a gun and were loaded down with anything that could handle, Kevin said, "This way."

And they all started walking again.

Claire tried to assimilate what her life had become in the last hour. A nightmare, a mad dash for safety.

She was running on adrenaline and fear for herself, her new found friends, and Leon.

She wondered if it was just Raccoon or if everywhere was experiencing some kind of freak show. She wondered if her friends were safe. She thought about calling them and decided against it. If they were safe, she didn't want them worrying about her. If they weren't…

She shook the thought away and kept walking. Now wasn't the time.

The alley opened into a street on the opposite side.

Kevin swept out first, scanning the area with his .45 raised and Leon echoed him, covering the other side as they moved toward the connecting alley. With a raise of his hand, Kevin signaled the others to follow and they did, quickly, all as fast as their feet would carry them.

The next alley would take them out right by the station. Just a quick run across the courtyard and they'd be there.

Claire felt the adrenaline becoming hope and it scared her. She didn't want to believe too strongly that Chris was there.

They ran through the next alley way and emerged out into the courtyard of the R.P.D. station.

Something was burning not too far away. The sky was wavering with inky darkness. Claire could smell the stink of rotting meat and turned as a cannibal started toward her. It was wearing an R.P.D. uniform and moaning.

She had a moment to blink and it's disgusting hands were in her hair. She screamed and pulled back as Kevin fired. But the shot was too tight and it hit the shoulder of her attacker and simply half spun it to the left.

Claire cursed, "I ain't your chew toy, you asshole!" And lifted the Beretta to fire point blank between its rotting teeth.

Blood splattered on her face and staggered, wiping quickly at her face, making sure to keep her eyes and mouth closed. She didn't want any of it noxious blood in her open cavities. If it was anything like A.I.D.S. it would spread through blood contact.

Leon grabbed her; pulled her back into his arms.

"Are you alright?" He took her face and wiped at it with the sleeve of his uniform. "Claire?"

"I'm fine. None in my eyes or mouth. I'm okay."

There was a trembling in his hands as he touched her. She felt it and looked at his face. A rain drop hit the end of his nose and dangled, pretty and sparkling in the muted light. His damn face was kinda perfect...save for that nose. What was the nose? Jewish ancestory?

He looked like a model and she looked like a hot mess. What did it matter where his nose came from? It didn't matter. His fingers curled her chin to the light to inspect her face. "Any of this blood yours?"

She shook her head, watching the moonlight reflect in his eyes. "...no. It didn't get me. It's not fast enough for that. I think we can out smart them easily enough, don't you? They're legion...but dumb."

He nodded, scanning her chest now. She felt a little flush creep up her neck when his eyes dipped to her breasts. He was looking for wounds, she knew that. She did. But it pissed her off to feel the blush happen.

Her hand gripped at his wrist. He was too close. He was making this quest to find her brother about him. It needed to stop. She pushed away from him, shaking her head.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but getting to the station, getting to safety.

They started moving again.

There were loud booms from the far side of the courtyard as Alyssa and George took down three more shambling monstrosities.

They ran up a flight of stairs and were at the main doors of the station.

A burning squad car sat off to one side, a testament to how safe the station really was.

With little more then a glance at it, Claire hurried to the front doors.

But there was no getting into that building. Not yet. Not like this. There was nothing you could do but stare in horror.

They weren't alone in the courtyard.

There was a man in the courtyard who looked both frightened and ill. He was limping across the grass toward the door. Claire could just make out the S.T.A.R.S. badge on his chest when he turned abruptly.

It was Brad Vickers - the pilot for Alpha Company.

It was almost too far to discern much but she could hear him yelling. He started running, as best as he could, toward the doors.

Claire started to call to him and stopped when Leon jerked her back into his front and put his hand over her mouth. She struggled for a moment before she stopped. Everyone else was ducked, hunkered down, shivering and hiding. There was a reason for that.

Something was pursuing Brad across the yard.

It was at least nine feet tall and looked like it was trying to be human except it's face was disgusting with exposed gums and sharp looking teeth in a grey face.

There were things poking out of it too, things that looked like snakes…no tentacles. It had tentacles that waved around it's body as it moved.

Claire whispered, "We have to help him!"

But George and Jim were shaking their heads. Kevin was sharing looks with Leon. They were both thinking the same thing - they weren't sure how you fought something that had a machine gun for an arm.

"No way!" Jim hissed and was already moving quietly to the other alley. "We don't know him! But it ain't lookin for us! Let it get him and we can RUN! Right now!"

Claire struggled in Leon's grip, "I know him! He works with Chris! Please!"

She wanted to help, wanted to look away but she couldn't. It was like a car crash, you just kept staring.

It picked the man up by his head with one giant paw and shook him once, like a cat with a mouse.

Claire started fighting in earnest when it raised him to eye level. She couldn't help it, she was afraid for the man, for herself, for Chris and what this meant that this THING was here - in the courtyard- of the only safe place in the city.

Brad squealed like a pig in its grip. He jerked. The scent of urine spilled sharp and sweet around him as he wet his pants in abject fear.

Claire shoved away from Leon and raised her gun. He finally broke with his own fear and stepped into the low light from the street lamps. Kevin echoed him, looking pale but determined. The three of them opened fire on the thing clutching its prey in one hamlike fist.

And it spoke. The monster? It SPOKE. No...it roared.

"STARRRRZZZZZ!" Garbled, booming, it's triumphant bellow echoed through the skyline. Claire quaked with fear as she filled it full of bullets - and it never even twitched.

Claire screamed, "OVER HERE! YOU ASSHOLE! YOU BASTARD! DROP HIM!"

It didn't drop him. It was determined. Brad kicked and moaned, purpling as he choked, gasping and jerking while he strangled. Claire braved getting closer and Leon shouted at her, "Don't! You stay right there!"

"I KNOW him!" She made a desperate wave of her arms to try to distract the monster. But it didn't care. It didn't care about anything but what it was holding.

It reared back that horrible tentacle that was its arm. Claire fired twice into its face and Leon put one right into its temple. But it didn't matter.

It just...didn't.

It stuck one of the tentacles straight through the Brad's throat while he screamed. It exploded out the back of his neck in a squelching pop of sound and blood. Jim panicked and threw up in the bushes, wretching. Claire nearly collapsed onto the ground in horror - but Leon dragged her back from the monster and one arm threw her toward the alley. Brad gurgled wetly, his body jerked, shook, and went still.

It was over. Brad was dead. The stench of soiling himself filled the air. Brad Vickers had died like a coward - pissing and shitting himself.

And the giant monster turned, seemed to be still for a moment, as if it were listening for something. Claire started to lift her gun and Leon knocked her hands down. He jerked her arm so hard it snapped into her numb brain and made her gasp. He threw her behind the dumpster in the alley and pressed her into the shadows, throwing his hand over her mouth.

Cindy hunkered down, just barely looking over the edge of the dumpster. She whispered, "Oh please go away. Don't come here."

It turned and she swore it looked right at her with it's ugly black little eyes.

A flash of movement at the end of the alley had Leon turning his head. In the dying moonlight, in the pouring rain, a woman stood in the flicker of lightning. Beautiful, wearing combat boots and a vest. She tilted her head at him. He blinked at her.

And the monster in the courtyard roared his battle cry one more time, "STARZZZZ!"

The beautiful woman breathed, "Protect her!"

Claire jerked in his arms, "...Jill!?"

And the woman yelled again, "Run Claire! You hear me!? RUN!" She took off into the rain, sprinting like she had wings on her feet.

Claire shouted again, "JILL!"

She struggled to get away from him and he held her against the wall, effortlessly. She rolled her shoulders like she'd drop her arm to break his hold and it was too late. The monster was coming for them.

She didn't shove him away, she dragged him in by his vest against her, holding on now. His nose ended up right beside hers. Their eyes locked and held. Terror beat like butterfly wings between them.

The world tilted as the monster gave chase. It passed right behind Leon by inches. Claire clung to his vest, shaking. He kept staring at her face even as she watched the horror and the fear flash over him.

But it didn't care about any of them.

It didn't care.

It wanted Jill.

It wanted...

Claire breathed, softly, "S.T.A.R.S." It wanted Jill Valentine...it wanted her brother.

She turned her face up to Leon in the rain. She fisted his vest and vowed, "I will find my brother. I have to find him. Do you understand? That thing? It's after the S.T.A.R.S. It's after my brother. I have to protect him. Help me...please help me."

His eyes coveted her face, seeking the answers that neither of them posessed. What else could he do here?

He opened his mouth to answer - and a baying howl lit up the night around them. The monster had left...but the battle was just beginning. Because a pack of dogs was racing toward them. Rotting, grotesque - split skin and exposed sinew and bone. They drooled and dropped flesh as they ran, baying for blood.

There was no station for them. There was nothing but terror.

They split up - the group divided - the desperate chase beginning. Leon and Claire, Cindy and Kevin - the only four around the dump. They just...ran. They ran like the hounds of hell were chasing them. Because, at this moment, they really, really were.


	7. Chapter 7

**Raccoon City**

* * *

**Raccoon City, Pennsylvania**

**September 26, 2018 –**

**Eight Legged Freaks**

* * *

There wasn't much choice when you were being chased by rotting, rabid dogs. They veered into the open street and toward the subway. It became survival: simply a matter of keep running, keep moving, and hope to god they found a door to stop the pursuit.

In a good horror movie, this might be the moment when the hero made a stupid decision to be brave and self sacrificing. Leon Kennedy was not that hero. He was, however, the kind who didn't mind barking orders above the din of howling hell hounds.

"SUBWAY! NOW!"

Without missing a beat, Kevin shouted back, "No thanks! I'm more of a burger guy!"

Well, he'd meant the subway  _station..._ but sadly they were currently racing passed what had once been the Subway restaurant. It was ramsacked and overturned, the glass shattered and littered with garbage and tossed furniture. Apparently, as with any mass hysteria event, people would still be found looting in the middle of the chaos.

Did they steal a footlong? He was hoping they didn't waste time stealing a six inch sub.

His mind tittered even as he fled in the pouring rain.

Jokes. How in the world was that ok!?

And yet?

Leon laughed, hating himself for it. But the world was still turning. They were still alive. Laughter and bad jokes might be the only damn thing that kept them that way. But even the humor eventually ran out.

A boom of thunder and a jolt of lightning split the sky, blinding him briefly. Leon stumbled in the rain and Claire jerked at his vest to sling him forward. Kevin and Cindy hit the stairs to the Birkin Street station entrance and raced down.

Claire was two steps in when the first dog leaped. It caught Leon in a full tackle and took them both to the ground. But it didn't get a chance to go for his throat - she blasted it off the top of him with a yelp and burst of blood. Her hand shot down and jerked on his to pull him up.

They practically flew down the stairs into the dark with the dogs roaring after them.

Kevin yelled, "JUMP!"

They jumped. It was pitch black in the tunnel they were in. But they jumped. Leon must have seen better in the dark, because he grasped the ledge and pulled himself up. His hand shot down and caught hers in mid swing. She kicked her legs and missed losing a foot to dog.

Kevin pulled Leon up and Cindy anchored Claire as the dogs snarled and paced and roared below them in the dark.

Cindy and Claire leaned on each other for a moment, relearning how to breathe. Leon and Kevin seperated to lean as well. They gathered their wits and Cindy said, "Jesus...we lost everyone."

Kevin remarked, "We have to assume they're safe somewhere. We have to."

She nodded, looking sick to her stomach. Leon flipped on the light on his gun, giving them a narrow beam of yellow to see in the dark. He aimed it around, trying to get their bearings.

They were in the service tunnel over the subway tracks. It was long and cylindrical. It was little more than fans with enormous blades and ladders on each end.

Kevin moved to the end and glanced over, looking into the dark beyond. He mused, "Nothing over here that I can see but black."

Claire sighed, shaking her head, "I need to get back to the station. These tracks run together somewhere worthwhile. Can we loop around to get back there?"

Leon glanced at the map he pulled up on her phone. He studied it, looking flushed with exertion but alert. "They run east of the zoo and loop around toward the hospital. If we follow them, we can take the tunnel out by the zoo and head back to the station via the alleys there."

Claire nodded, gathering herself. "The dogs are all down there now. So hopefully it'll be clear."

Kevin shrugged, "Only one way to find out. Ready?"

No. But what choice was there?

Leon grappled down, into the darkness and the stench.

The minute he stepped into water that stunk like three day old diapers, he knew they weren't alone.

Something was down here; waiting, watching.

There was a soft splash as Claire landed next to him.

Leon whispered, "Don't move. Don't say a word."

He felt, more than saw, Kevin freeze on the ladder.

There was a sound, something close to a shuffle. He'd heard it once, as a boy, but it had been faint and close to his ear while he slept.

Spiders.

From the rapidly increasing loudness of the shuffling, he knew they were bigger than the ones of his youth and hell of lot more dangerous. It was luck more then instinct that had him grabbing Claire and pulling her with him off to one side. She squeaked in surprise and he pulled her back against him, putting his back against the wall, one hand over her mouth to keep her silent.

This seemed to be the way they were going to spend their evening - pressed together in fear with his hand over her mouth.

There was a splash, quiet, soft. Kevin? Cindy? Or one of the spiders?

A loud rustling of water, steadily increasing. Something was coming.

There was a beam of light shining. Someone had a flash light.

Leon caught a glimpse of a thousand shining eyes less then six feet from him and barely had time to lift his gun before it leaped.

For a moment, he was frozen in shock as it went up and up and up, at least ten feet above his head where it stuck to the ceiling like silly putty.

The light from Leon's flashlight was too thin, too small to do more then show a suggestion of legs, a rounded bubble of a belly covered with hair and all those horrible eyes.

Leon shoved Claire, lightly. "Run!"

Footsteps splashed loudly as they run, unsure what they were running toward, convinced they wouldn't be able to climb back up in time.

Someone yelled, the flashlight swerved to see on a spider on top of Kevin.

The darkness flashed bright as someone fired. Claire? Kevin? He couldn't tell.

The spider was making a high pitched sound.

Leon moved through the nasty water that was at least waist deep. Too slow, too damn slow.

Cindy was yelling now. "He's fine! Keep going!"

Someone was next to him. Leon grabbed their arm and pulled them with him. There was a rise up ahead, he could just make it out in the darkness. He jumped without thinking, running as fast as he could.

The person cried out as they hit the ground, already rolling.

Leon did his best to protect the person in his arms as they rolled, hit a stairway and kept going.

At the bottom, his back sore, they finally rolled to stop.

He was on the bottom, someone cradled safely atop him.

Claire's voice said in his ear, "You better stop manhandling me, you jerk." But she didn't move off him. She kinda...clung. It was almost a hug. As they both relearned to breathe.

He held her like that, just a moment as the fear danced away. She was a strange chic, always being tough and mouthy, and then grabbing hold of him to ground her. What was funny, was that he was kinda the same way.

Then she was climbing off him, helping him up.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh." She shivered, "Nasty ass bugs."

"No shit."

Feet were pounding down the stairs. Two sets? Three? He couldn't tell.

A minute later a flashlight beam came over the rise and started down the stairs, bobbling as Kevin ran.

Cindy panted, "Fuck! It almost got me. Thanks."

A cool female voice remarked, "No problem."

The light floated over. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah." Leon studied the girl on Kevin's side. Young. Lots of blonde hair. He narrowed his eyes in the dark but was having trouble placing her.

Claire's voice shook, just a little. "Let's get out of here."

There were on solid ground again but it was pitch dark and impossible to tell which way they needed to go.

Kevin said, "Leon, point the light that way."

Leon stood while the light went away, far away down the corridor. His hand was wrapped around his gun, his ears open. The spiders couldn't be that far away.

There was a loud buzzing, like the sound of a bug hitting a light, and then lights started to flicker on overhead.

Emergency lights, red and ominous.

The stairway was about six feet away. Leon looked up and realized they'd rolled down at least thirty steps. Yikes. They were lucky as hell. Lucky neither one of them had any broken bones.

The blonde was at the far end of the corridor standing by what looked like a fusebox.

How'd she known there would be circuit breaker there?

It didn't matter but it pretty much confirmed what they already knew. They were in the subway. They were surrounded by monsters. They were on their own. And they weren't the last people alive in this city.

This girl proved it.

They started toward her and she gave Kevin his pen light back.

"We're in the eastern line tunnel," She said quietly, "I got a look at the map on terminal wall when I got here earlier. This line runs under the z-."

Leon finished for her, "The zoo. We know."

She gave him a cold look. Curious about it, he arched a brow at her. She shook her head, "Thanks. I already knew that."

Kevin shook his head and glanced at Cindy.

She looked frightened but unharmed.

"Did something bite you?"

She shook her head no. Claire studied the other girl in the red lights. "Who are you?"

She cocked her hip, laughing. "Ask him."

Surprised, Leon shrugged. "Should I know?"

And the girl laughed, sharply, "You should. Considering you spent all last night up to your balls in me. I'm Elza. Elza Walker."

Right. ELZA. Not Elsa. Elza Walker. His one night stand. Of all the horrible coincidences in all the world...this is the one that cropped up. Kevin coughed. Cindy looked amused now. Claire managed to look disgusted.

Leon mused, "In my defense, I was totally fucking drunk last night."

Claire shook her head, "That's your defense? You're always fucking drunk."

He gave her a filthy look, "No, I'm not. I was just drunk last night..."

"And tonight."

"No," He shook his head, starting forward, " ** _Tonight_**  I was hung over."

Kevin laughed. Cindy chuckled. Elza Walker was NOT amused. She paced behind the group, looking pissed.

Claire stepped up beside him, "Well, maybe you could lay off the sauce and your search for pussy long enough to help keep us alive."

Oy. She was something else. Her snarky little attitude grated on his nerves. What was her problem here? She acted like he'd spent last night in her.

The image didn't help things. It lingered in the perverted part of his brain that had no place here in the middle of this mess. So, to counteract that, his voice hissed at her.

He gave her narrow eyes, "Because I haven't so far?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "So far all I've seen is bad driving, pretty good shooting, and alot of manhandling. Maybe big boobs back there likes that, but the rest of us? We prefer sober cops over drunk ones playing hero."

He paused, staring at her. She realized he'd stopped walking and turned back to him. Annoyed, he laughed without humor and walked passed her.

"You know what? You do what you want from this point on, princess. Seriously. You've been nothing but a bitchy pain in the ass since I met you. You think you're so fucking tough? Go off on your own. But remember, you asked ME for help. You did that. So if that's what want, start acting like it. Otherwise? Get outta my way. Because following a ladies lead just isn't my style."

Claire rankled, licking her teeth. She hissed, angry now, "You are such an asshole. Seriously. You think I asked you to play the white knight? I could use your help, but I don't need you to lead me, you arrogant...MAN."

There. The perfect insult.

They glared at each other for so long that finally, Kevin remarked, "You two either work it out or get a room. The rest of us don't have time for this shit."

Elza laughed, glaring at them. "Exactly. He's not good for much else but fucking, honestly. So best of luck to you, girl."

He was officially in hell. Somewhere between a pissed off one night stand and a bossy chore of a woman who couldn't wait to see him finished off. At this particular point, in the grand scheme of how shitty his life had become, he was wishing he'd taken the job back home. He'd wanted adventure, by god, and he was getting it.

With a side helping of estrogen courtesy of two pissy females looking to castrate him and wear his balls for earrings. At this juncture, he was not at all fond of women.

Claire shoved into a walk, muttering under her breath. Leon took up the rear of the group, pissed. She was such a pain in the ass. He couldn't wait to get away from her. She was a baby, honestly, not even old enough to drink.

He was hoping they found her brother soon so he could dump her off and get rid of her.

He hated that he watched her ass in those stupid jeans she wore as she walked. Her stupid butt looked like two pringles hugging. He sighed. Indirectly, he was being a huge dick to her because she'd sorta ruined his life by simply existing. It was unfair, ill-timed, and immature. He sighed again, resolved to letting her be a bitch to him to atone for his own mistakes.

Claire muttered darkly. Asshole cop. He'd been a total jerk since the moment she met him. First he blames her for his bad driving. Next he ARRESTS her for - nothing. For nothing at all. Now he was being all arrogant and pushy and...penis having boy like...she sighed, smirking at herself. He acted like she needed saved. What year was this?! She wasn't sitting her tower waiting for a hero. She couldn't wait to get away from him.

The second they hit the RPD, she was bailing on his ass.

The ass in question passed by her at the subway interchange. She hated herself for watching it move. She hated even more that she liked his ass at all. He was fucking gorgeous, which annoyed her. He was funny, which made her feel funny in her pants. He was a PIG, which made her want to strangle him. He was a terrible driver with a fantastic eagle eye and a kind of bravery that impressed her.

She hated him.

She kinda liked him.

Claire paused, blinking. Yep. She liked him. She was crushin on him a little. Which was likely why she was being such a thunder cunt to him. It was her reaction to liking a guy. She tried to drive him away to see if he'd stick around.

As if either of them had time for that kind of thing now anyway.

It was entirely irrelevant but, at the same time, she was a good person underneath the blanket of sarcasm and bravado. She was. She eased up beside him as he cleared around the corner of the tunnel. It galled, but she muttered, "Listen...I'm sorry about before."

Surprised, Leon glanced down at her. A quiet moment passed and he remarked, "...it's ok. I think we're all acting like assholes. Adrenaline, right?"

Claire chuckled a little, shrugging, "I'll be nice - if you stop trying to save me."

He lifted the corner of his mouth a little, "Deal. Work with me here, Claire, and we can help keep each other alive."

She nodded, taking up position at his flank, "Fair enough. Ready?"

They nodded off and cleared the corner into the next line. Empty - it offered a stifling chill that didn't really elicit any kind of hope. It smelled moldy and dank down here. It wasn't looking promising that they'd come upon any other survivors any time soon.

They eased into the main area of the track and the silence was pervasive. The threat down here was minimal. Apparently the dead were too dumb to seek seclusion beneath the city. The metamorphosis of the spiders was frightening enough, implying that the virus was cross species, and wouldn't just stop at the induction of human DNA.

Claire paused, considering. How did she know it was a virus? Why that?

Apparently, three semesters of pre-med classes made her a virologist. She wasn't sure what it was about them, but the point of origin being blood contact via bite or exposure...it said infection. It said virus. The question was how? Where had it come from? Was it naturally occuring here? What could possibly have started the spread?

There was a soft gasp as Cindy avoided a rat eating garbage between two railroad ties. Claire looked at the rodent, blinking.  _That's the answer right there_. She was nearly positive.

Aloud, she mused, "Vermin."

Leon glanced at her over his shoulder. The light from the flickering emergency bulbs overhead cast him in a nearly filtered shadow. She shook her head, moving up to join him.

"Trying to figure out how this damn thing spread."

He nodded, studying the dark as they head toward the access door to the far side of the tracks. According to the map, it should lead them easily through the employee quarters and bring them out on the other side, closer to the station and the right terminal.

"You're thinking vermin? The rats bite turned that man back at the bar."

Observant. He noticed it too. She gave him an approving glance, "Yeah. It spreads that way, clearly. And crosses species."

Behind them, Kevin added, "Putting aside my intense desire for a smoke, what the hell kind of virus can cross species?"

Claire figured Rebecca Chambers would come in real handy right about then. To her surprise, Leon answered, "SARS." He caught Claire looking at him as he eased open the employee door and cleared into the locker room, "What?"

"Nothing. Just...you're right."

He shrugged once. "I wasn't always planning to be a cop."

Cindy gave him a small smile as they moved into the locker room and were surrounded by the smell of bleach and disinfectant. Without prompting, each person moved to check the lockers for supplies. Elza found a bottle of perfume and spritzed herself, sighing with pleasure to end the smell of horror on her.

Kevin shook his head, "Ok. Some we know that some viruses can jump species. I've seen Outbreak too. But how? In this case? How so fast?"

Leon opened a locker and dug inside. He pulled free a dry jacket in pale pink and handed it to the shivering Cindy to put on over her soaked uniform. Finally, after a moment, he said, "Cross- **species**  transmission, or spillover, is the ability for a foreign  **virus** , once introduced into an individual of a new host  **species** , to infect that individual and spread throughout a new host population. ... It can also occur between  **species**  with low contact rates but usually through an intermediary  **species**."

Claire stopped digging to stare at him. It took a moment, but he realized that everyone was now.

"What?" It sounded defensive.

Elza remarked, "You look like a model. I don't think anyone expected you to be..." She trailed off.

Offended, Leon slammed the locker. "Smart?"

Claire winced a little. "I'm sorry. I'm an asshole, because I had the same thought."

Kevin snorted, shaking his head, "Turns out being a judgmental asshole cuts both ways. We think blonde girls is dumb. Girls think hot guys are stupid. Fail."

Claire rose. "I'm really sorry. I seem to be saying that alot."

Leon shrugged and moved to the far door. "It's fine. I chose to be a cop to prove I was a tough guy. But I would have been a pretty good scientist I think."

Claire gave him a small smile, "I get the feeling you'd be pretty good at most anything."

They stare at each other for a second too long, as Cindy laughed lightly and Kevin cleared his throat. Claire jumped a little and flushed. Leon eased open the door with pink cheeks.

Elza, glancing between them, finally made a small sound of surprise. "O-M-G!  _You_ are Claire. You're  _her!"_

Claire blinked, shrugging once. "So?"

Leon cleared into the next room and they followed, Kevin taking up the rear. This one was the bunk room where employees could chill out on break. It was ratty bunk beds and old magazines. Someone had left their tablet on the table but it was dead. The table was littered with cigarette butts.

It smelled vaguely of nacho cheese and day old orange soda.

Elza added, "The whole time he was on top of me, he kept calling me Claire. He kept wishing I was you!"

It rang in the quiet room.

It was official, he was in hell.


	8. Chapter 8

**Raccoon City**

* * *

**Raccoon City, Pennsylvania**

**September 26, 2018 –**

**Pesticide**

* * *

It was a moment, that was for sure. A horrible one. An awkward one. Claire froze. Leon froze. Kevin dropped the tablet with a clatter of sound. Cindy giggled and tried to hide it.

And Elza shouted, "Were you pretending I was this fat bitch?!"

Proving he was the dumbest man alive, Leon Kennedy found himself trapped in a small employee lounge in a burning city with a one night stand gone wrong, the girl he'd lost his first love over, a waitress and a colleague - and the worst embarrassment he'd ever known.

Claire and Elza shared a dark look and Claire laughed. She didn't shout at all. In fact, she whispered, "Who you calling fat!? At least I don't look like a ten year old boy with an eating disorder! How much you pay for those tits anyway? We can all smell the silicone from a hundred yards."

"At least mine don't sag to my waist...you blubbery assed bull dyke cow!"

Kevin tried not to choke on the laugh that he failed to stifle. Surprisingly, Cindy hissed at Elza, "How old are you!? What the fuck is wrong with you to pick a fight like this in the middle of a nightmare!?"

"Not as old as  _you,_ you wrinkley faced dinosaur hag!"

Claire shook her head, barely holding in the snort. "...good lord, it's like dealing with a pubescent tween pop star." She gave Leon a long look, "You have horrible taste in girls."

That was rapidly becoming clear to everyone.

Proving she was light years smarter than the shrieking Elza, Claire delivered her insults quietly and succinctly. What had Leon called Elza? Claire 1.5. Turns out? He was kinda right.

Elza shouted, "She's not even pretty!"

Now that was just not true. Claire rolled her eyes, ignoring her.

Leon figured he was officially in hell. Officially. Kevin shook his head and grabbed Elza, roughly, shaking her, "Now isn't the time for this shit!" He hissed, "Shut up! You forget we're ass deep in alligators here? You're in here bellowing at the top of your stupid lungs like an idiot...shut the fuck up!"

She opened her mouth to retort and the sound found them. It was a scuffling. It was a shuffling skitter. It moved around the ceiling like something was above them. It shifted around the wall like something was inside of it. Not zombies. It couldn't be zombies.

Elza hissed and flipped Claire the finger, "Look what you did bitch! We get outta here, I'm going to cover your ass in angry tweets. You are  _dead_ on social media! You hear me? You and stupid red hair - boxed dyed hair, saggy tits, and your tank ass. You look like the fat chic on  _Mad Men!_ "

Claire just looked confused now. She glanced at Cindy, "Was there a fat chic on  _Mad Men_?"

Cindy shrugged, "Joan?"

Claire shook her head, "Joan - I fucking wish I was that fat." She signaled with her hands to her breasts, "That chic is gorgeous."

Cindy mused, "You do kinda look like her. But prettier!"

Claire chuckled softly.

Elza shrieked, "DON'T YOU IGNORE ME, YOU BITCHES!"

She was going to get them killed. If someone didn't smack this girl down, she was going to get them killed with her banshee wails. Claire shoved Leon with her hand on his arm, "Shut her up, Kennedy. Now. Hurry!" She hissed it, giving him a dirty look.

Leon spat at Elza, "Shut up! For god's sake, focus on what matters here!"

"It mattered when you were fucking me like one of those dogs back there! It mattered then, more than THOT." She pointed to Claire.

Cindy looked confused, "What's THOT?"

Elza shouted, "It means THAT WHORE OVER THERE!" She sneered it, "God, you guys are so old! Seriously just... **skurt**!"

Cindy mused, "What? What's that?"

"It means beat it! GOOD GOD! I'm surrounded by illiterates. I told my fam last night that this cop over here was straight fire. I thought maybe we'd get lit and smash and hang the next day. But nope...he just flopped around on top of me calling for this pig with red hair over here and passing out like an emo chic. I cannot BELIEVE I'm stuck in this nightmare with you dumb asses. Seriously."

Claire scoffed and turned away, "Nobody asked you along. Think you can do better?  **Skurt**."

Cindy laughed softly. Elza shrieked, "You sound so stupid when you try to talk cool!"

Kevin gave her a disgusted look, "Pot, kettle, you stupid girl. How fucking old are you?!"

Elza slapped him away, "Seventeen, you old geezer. Not that it's any of your damn business. Ask this cop over here if he cared last night. I didn't see him checking my I.D. while we were fucking behind that bar."

Well, hell had more than one layer apparently.

Seventeen. It was official - Leon Kennedy was a cradle robber, an idiot, and a cheater. He was also exactly what Claire said - the world's dumbest asshole about women. He was also done with this loud mouth bitch inviting trouble down on them. Dumb as clown shoes or not, he wasn't going to die for a crappy one night stand. He opened his mouth to say something and the door shivered. It shivered twice.

Something wanted in - badly.

Kevin shoved the stupid teenage girl away, giving her a filthy look. Cindy flipped her off. Claire rolled her eyes. Apparently,  _everybody_ hated Claire 1.5.

Instead of cursing Elza out, he gestured with his head and comannded, "Out this door, quietly."

But that wasn't happening either. The door was locked. They were trapped unless they found the key. The door they'd come through shivered again. Like something was trying to break in.

Like something heard them, or smelled them, or wanted to eat them...or fuck their empty eye sockets. Jesus. The fear curled around them like snakes.

Claire hissed, "Keep checking pockets and lockers! Find the key! Hurry!"

It didn't matter anymore what stupid drama was happening. They were all together as a team. They started digging, fast and scared. But the door shivered and cracked, telling them they were out of time.

Leon commanded them again, low and deep, "Get in! Get in the lockers and hide. Hurry!"

They all chose one and leaped inside. Leon and Claire ended up stuffed in the same one out of necessity. She pushed him into the back portion and pressed her back to his front so they could both see out. He kinda got the feeling she was putting herself between him and danger. Maybe.

A little.

Touched, he still wedged his gun up and aimed it at the door. Claire steadied his hands from beneath. His nose bumped the back of her ear. She tilted her face a little to see him in the dark - it was barely lit by the slits in the locker door.

 _Were you pretending I was this bitch!?_ The thought circled in her head. Had he been? Maybe Claire was the name of his long time girlfriend. Maybe Claire was his wife.

Wife. Was he married? Did he have eighteen kids at home waiting for their Daddy? She didn't even know this guy except that he was a piss poor driver with a cute smile who fucked ugly teenage girls behind bars while he was drunk. Admittedly, Elza didn't look that young, and she was only two years younger than Claire anyway...but she acted like a baby. She was an idiot.

She wanted to ask who Claire was. She kinda wanted to know if it was her. Was it her?

It didn't matter. The world fractured to remind her that right now, nothing mattered but what was trying to get into this room to kill them.

His arm brushed hers where it was braced around her. She felt her face pinken and make a liar out of her. It mattered. She didn't like that at all. But it mattered. Worse yet? She was kinda jealous of Elza Walker. Why?

Why else? She'd fucked the clumsy hero cop behind her. Why else would she be jealous? The truth sucked, rankled, and made Claire stiffen against him. He edged back enough to put the slightest distance between their bodies, feeling her tense.

He murmured into her ear, "Sorry. Too close?"

Yeah. Too close. That sounded about right.

Claire whispered, "...just scared."

He nodded, "Me too."

What kind of hero admitted that kind of thing?

It was another thing about him she liked. Young, scared, and willing to run for it when necessary. He was just a rookie on his first day, a newbie, a wet behind the ears beginner. They were both scared shitless and surviving. Claire returned her hands to his, supporting him. The attraction was stupid and irrelevant here. She was acting like a besotted school girl. It was time to act like Chris would - brave, tough, and ready for anything.

_Chris...I'm coming for you. Stay alive. Wherever you are._

The last locker shut quietly - in the nick of time.

The last one in was Elza. She tugged the door shut a second before the outer one exploded. It hit the far wall in a hammer of sound. They all breathed, still as statues in their hiding spots as something with antenna and a carapace emerged into their sanctuary. It scuffled and sniffed like a dog, bumping the lockers and letting out clangs of metallic sound.

It was the size of a horse but it wasn't. It wasn't a horse. What was it?

Leon narrowed his eyes through the locker slit, studying it. It stopped at Elza's locker, snarfling at the door. It was her own fault, he thought wildly, she was wearing some expensive perfume the pervaded the room.

What was the damn thing?

It turned a little and he caught a glimpse of its face fully. A flea.

It was a flea.

A flea the size of a horse in Raccoon City.

It might have been comic, if it wasn't so stupid. It was also finished with this moment. It rammed the locker where Elza was hiding and she couldn't' contain the gasp of fear. Leon thought, desperately, " _Don't alert anything else! Don't you dare scream!_ "

And Elza shouted, "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Idiot.

Fool.

Under his breath, he murmured, "Stupid girl."

The break room was suddenly full of zombies. They shuffled in by twos. No one else made a sound in their lockers, as terror spread like a blanket over the common area. Fucked, Leon thought, that's what they all were now. He'd wanted to get fucked last night - and he was fucked now. Big time. His one night stand was, literally, going to get him killed.

The flea rammed the locker again and Elza shrieked, 'GO AWAY!"

Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.

The third ram of the door forced the metal into a warped half circle. It gave her no choice but to spill out of the locker or get crushed. She screamed, scrambling to the floor as she fell on her butt.

The flea chased her over the ground so fast she had little time to do anything but run. She screamed as she ran, like a fool, but it worked like a charm to send the zombies shuffling after her and the flea. When the sounds retreated far enough, Leon and Claire stepped out of the locker.

Cindy hissed first, "We have to help her!"

No one said a word. They all just started digging again to find the key to the door on the other side of the break room. A handful of moments passed and Leon finally rose from crouching by a locker, "She's right. I'll do it. I'll go after her."

Claire gasped, "You kidding?! It's her fault they're all after us!"

He shook his head, "Doesn't matter. It can't matter. We have to help each other. Otherwise we're no better than them."

He turned toward the door. Claire grabbed his arm, halting him. "Leon! You go out there, you're just another victim."

Leon shook her hand free, "I'm a cop, Claire. That's got to mean something. Even now? It's got to mean something."

She grappled at him. "Don't! She's dead, Leon! If you go after her, you are too!"

He gave her a pitying glance, shaking his head, "Don't you get it, Claire? If I stay here and let her die, I'll never be able to live with myself. I have to try. I'm sorry. I'll find you as soon as I can."

He disappeared into the room in pursuit of Elza. Claire started after him and Kevin grabbed her arm to swing her around. "Don't. Stay with us. It's suicide to go after that girl. Stay here."

She wanted to go after him. It tickled in her belly to know it. She wanted to chase Leon Kennedy into the dark. It made her turn back to find the key. She had to find her brother. He had to come first.

He had to.

Or else what was she fighting for?

He raced through the dark, feeling his blood and his breath in his body like twin heartbeats. Lord. He was so afraid. It fairly spilled out of his mouth in a shaky exhale as he turned the corner in the dark with his gun up.

Elza was still screaming down the tunnel. He could track her blind by the sound alone.

He eased around the curve in the tunnel to and caught sight of the struggle. She was pressed into a corner surrounded. There were ten, twenty, thirty zombies and at least three of those horrible, horrible, fleas around her. The ceiling was shuffling shadows that were surely spiders. She was being chased by an army.

She was being chased by a horde. The first zombie got her arm. She fought, screaming high and sharp. It took a mouthful of her forearm in a slurping jerk of flesh and blood. Elza squealed, kicking madly. The flea got her leg, jerking her down in a loud crunch of sound. She was keening like an animal as it went for her side and split her open as if it had take a blade to her belly. One grabbed her skinny arm and pulled.

Even here, he could hear the bone crack and break. Bone and blood, blood and muscle, muscle and sinew - it was a symphony of pain and torture. She was being ripped to pieces. Literally.

Blood splashed the group and set off a riot of hunger. Moans, groans, shuffling and skittering filled the air. A spider dropped to her face and muffled her screaming. The screaming - he'd never forget the screaming. He was frozen in horror, watching her die. Some hero, he thought, he was frozen there in terror.

He moved away from the wall to bravely join the battle to save her. It was the right thing to do. It just was.

A set of hands grabbed him and threw him to the wall. Claire pressed herself against him in the dark, throwing her hand over his mouth. She hissed low, and desperate, "Don't! You idiot! You brave idiot! It's suicide, Leon. It's suicide."

The screaming stopped in a wet gurgle. They heard the sounds of her being torn apart.

Claire's eyes were wide and filled with horror. Huge like a doll in the darkness.

She whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I need you, Leon. Stay with me."

He trembled, feeling the nausea claw at his belly and his throat...and he nodded. A coward at the core, it seemed. A coward cop. The guilt nearly made him vomit on the spot.

Claire tugged his arm.

They ran into the dark and left the girl behind.

As they curled into the far tunnel back toward the break room, Leon stopped running and sagged, throwing his hands on his knees to cough. It was a dry, wheezy, pain filled sound. He made a small sound of grief and pain and pushed himself up to spear his hands through his hair.

"Jesus Christ...Jesus Christ...what kinda cop am I? Oh god, I'm gonna be sick."

Claire grabbed his arm, pushing him into the shadows of the tracks. She covered his mouth with her hand again, shaking her head. "Stop it! You hear me? Stop!" They were both breathing fast and hard from running, from fear, from guilt, "Stop it. She knew the risks. She kept on shouting. She RAN, Leon. She ran. Not you. You didn't do this. You didn't."

He shook his head, hating himself. Claire drew her hand down, slowly. He whispered, "She hated me. It's my fault. I used her and she ran and she's  _dead_ , Claire. She's dead because of me. She's dead. And I didn't even save her."

Claire whispered, harshly, "You couldn't! You couldn't save her!"

He made a small sound and tears sprung at the corners of his eyes, hurting them both. He gasped, "I didn't even try! I didn't even try! I'm not a cop, Claire, I'm just a coward with a badge."

Claire grabbed his face with both hands, "Don't! Don't talk like that! You saved me! You saved me more than once. You saved those people in that bar with me. You stayed, when I asked, when you could have run away, Leon! You're not a coward! There's nothing cowardly in surviving. There was no hope for her. None. But there's still hope for us! Don't give up on me! Please! I need you!"

If he cried, she'd lose it. She'd cry too. Her brother would die while she stayed in the dark weeping in fear and failure. She couldn't give up. She had to go on. She had to go on and needed him with her. She just did.

She wasn't ready to think about the why.

Two fat tears slipped down his cheeks and he gasped, voice hitching, "You need a hero, Claire. I'm just a rookie. This is my first fucking day. I can't help you."

Claire gripped his uniform in her fists and kinda shoved him against the wall, gently. "Yes, you can! You will! Stop wallowing and help me! Stop! Now!"

He whispered, "I can't. I'm gonna get you killed. It's what I do."

Claire scanned his face, rapidly, and breathed, "Who's Claire?"

He trembled, looking at her, "What?"

"Who's Claire? She said you kept yelling Claire. Who is she? Wife? Girlfriend? Mother?"

Leon's breathing eased back. The change of topic worked like a charm. He wasn't going to break down and sob after all. He was going to be a man, not a sniveling baby. He was. He could do this. He could do this. He could.

Claire filled the silence, "It was me, wasn't it? She was right."

He said nothing, staring down at her.

Finally, she whispered, "...shit.  _Shit._ I don't have time for this shit, Leon Kennedy. I don't."

Her hand lifted and swiped at his cheek, swiping the tear away. "I don't have time to hand hold you or coddle you anymore. I need you to man up and let this go. You hear me? I need you."

He finally nodded, slowly, "...alright. You're right. You're so right. I'm sorry. I'll get it together."

She let go of his uniform and paused, torn. Finally, she queried, "...fuck. I have to know. Was it me?"

He almost didn't answer. Almost. But she'd pulled him back from the edge. Honesty felt right here. Even if the timing was piss poor. He murmured, "...yeah. Yeah, it was you. I got her killed because I couldn't stop thinking about  _you._ "

Oh. Oh oh oh. Her heart. It danced in her chest. She wanted to kiss him in the dark like a crazy thing. She wanted to know what he tasted like. She wanted to feel his hands in her hair and his breath on her mouth. Lord.

And that would get them both killed.

Instead, she breathed, "...well, I don't want you. Ok? You're not my type. So get over it. And let's survive this nightmare. You hear me?"

She shoved away from him and ran into the dark while he called after her, "Claire! Claire! Wait, wait! Man, why doesn't anyone ever listen to me?"

 _I don't want you -_ she'd said it. She'd said the words.

Why didn't he believe her?

Because she'd been trembling while she said them.

And she'd chased him into the dark to bring him back.


	9. Stampede

**Raccoon City**

* * *

**Raccoon City, Pennsylvania**

**September 26, 2018 –**

**Stampede**

* * *

**Outside the City Limits...**

* * *

The apartment was empty. He wasn't sure what he'd expected - that she'd be there, that she'd be waiting, that she'd be worried and angry and curse him...any of these things.

He never expected she'd be gone.

There was a note pinned to the fridge and the television was still on for the cat. The place smell like patchouli and incense. Her bedroom was hastily tossed as if she'd fled in a rush.

Where would she have gone? His calls hit her voicemail without ringing. His texts went unanswered. He'd been watching her on the live feed he'd had installed in her living room to be sure she was alright after he'd snuck away to investigate Umbrella.

But a week ago, she'd gone off the feed. He knew why. He'd stopped answering her text messages. He couldn't be sure he wasn't being watched, so he'd cut contact hoping against hope that she just thought he was busy until he could bury his tracks and let her know what was up.

But she'd panicked the second he'd gone out of contact with her. He should have known better. Claire didn't wait. She didn't think. She just reacted. She was impulsive and headstrong and young. She'd gone looking for him, he was certain of that. His only hope was that she hadn't gone far.

The television cut into the programming to show the burning skyline of the city he'd tried to leave behind - and his heart lodged in his throat.

From the air, the helicopter took in the scene as he instructed Alexa to unmute the television and turn it up. The voice popped in with the thunking whir of blades in mid-air, "-estly, Steve. Things are looking dire. Where's FEMA? Where's the President? The disaster in Raccoon City is the worst I've ever seen - and I was present during Hurricane Katrina. This is a nightmare down there. Any word on your end from officials in charge?"

The female anchor replied, as the helicopter circled the clock tower as it plumed smoke into the night air, it was burning...like the city around it. "Not on this end. The last confirmed tweets from the Mayor's office were prayers for safe passage. We had an upload from a bystander showing the paramilitary forces from Umbrella arriving on scene and a potentially uncorroborated photo of the Mayor going down in a zombie wave attack outside the RPD. But there is nothing confirmed yet."

The reporter in the helicopter showed the devastation as he answered, "City Hall is in shambles. It's collapsed on oneside like a huge mole dug under to weaken the wall strength and infiltrate a compound. The only help were getting here is private forces sent in by Umbrella? That's ridiculous. The federal government is really dropping the ball on this mess, Sheila. There are elected officials down there and trapped in that nightmare. They need to get them out."

Sheila answered, as the helicopter circled the park and the sounds of the screams added to the roar of the fires, "It looks post apocalyptic Seth. Any hope of helping folks out?"

The helicopter circled around and the lifted higher, losing the sounds of death the permeated the air. The reporter on the chopper replied, "No hope of that, Sheila. Even if we sat down, we can't guarantee our own safety by doing so. Until we hear from the government, it's best to stay airborne."

Sheila answered, "I agree. Any visual confirmation of a single survivor?"

"So far, no. Sadly, there's not much hope for those stuck on the ground in that hellhole, Sheila. All we can do now is pray."

The helicopter cut left and showed the highway leading into Raccoon. Cars and trucks were over turned and throwing plumes into the ugly rainy sky. But none of that mattered. Because the moment came when he saw what he feared the most: the jacket thrown over the seat of the soft tail with the image of the angel with her wings on fire.

Claire's riding jacket, his baby sister, the one he'd bought her after she'd graduated high school.

His baby sister had gone to Raccoon City to find him.

Standing in her living room, Chris Redfield felt the first roll of terror that nearly killed him where he stood. He put a hand on his chest to check to see if his heart had stopped. Claire was in Raccoon City.

Claire was in the necropolis. Claire was somewhere inside that nightmare.

He moved to her music box with the image of the angel on it. It tinkled happily as he opened it. The terror in his guts turned to dread. Because her pretty little red handled 9 mm was still in that goddamn box.

She'd gone into Raccoon City without a weapon. She was a crack shot, he'd made sure of that. But she'd left behind the only thing that might save her life. His baby sister was in a city of the dead, unarmed, alone, and looking for him.

He picked up the gun and jerked the slide to put a round in the chamber. It was audible in the quiet apartment.

Softly, as the helicopter circled the burning city without hope behind him, he vowed, "Hold on, kid, I'm coming for ya."

* * *

Leon and Claire found Cindy and Kevin waiting for them in the long emergency tunnel that led them toward the outside. No one seemed eager to take the ladder to the street and see where it let out. Apparently, they were apprehensive about what was up and terrified about what was down.

Finally, Claire whispered, "We have to get out of here. There's things in the dark we can't even see."

Jesus.

The terror was palpable.

Proving to himself he was not a coward, even if his bones hurt with shame that he was, Leon went first up the ladder and Kevin took the rear. He eased open the escape hatch at the top and poked his head up like a frog emerging over a lillypad - all eyes and trepidation.

The street was mostly naked. It was a few cars that were ransacked and wrecked, a storefront that was cleaned out and wrecked and swirling security lights with a long dead alarm that had given up on alerting anyone to looters, and the large open entrance to the Raccoon City Zoo. The pretty towering copper statue of a tiger greeted the eyes in a majestic open mouthed roar.

The words beneath informed the viewer that the Zoo operated entirely on donations made by private donors and the benevolence of the Umbrella Pharmaceutical Corporation. There was something taped to the base of the statue that was flickering in the lazy wind. The rain was a smattering pepper of annoying wet now, telling Leon that it wasn't finished making it's presence known quite yet.

There was a jackknifed eighteen wheeler blocking the road up ahead, which meant through the zoo itself was their only real option here.

He pushed out of the escape hatch and kept his gun loose in his hands as Claire and Cindy quickly rose to join him. Kevin brought up the rear with a huff of sound.

After a moment of being free of the stench of the subway, they smells of rot and ruin, rain and scorched sky filled the nostrils. Cindy shivered and Kevin patted her arm sympathetically. Claire picked up the paper taped to the Tiger with her brow furrowed.

"Citizens of Raccoon City - come to the tram station near the front of the zoo. Evacuations are being performed every four hours." She tilted her eyes to the times and glanced at her watch. It was two hours until the next one. "This is the rear entrance. We just need to cross through the zoo to the front gates and you guys can get the hell outta here."

Kevin gave her a narrow look. "What about you? Why stay here?"

Claire shook her head, "I have to find Chris. I have to check the station. I have to. It's what I came here for."

Cindy nodded, look resolute. "I'll stay with you."

Claire shook her head at her, "No way. If this is for real, you need to get the hell outta here. I mean it. The zoo is a short dash to the station. Get me to the front and I'll go the rest of the way on my own."

Leon said nothing, venturing into the zoo far enough that Claire tilted her head at him. "See anything?"

He shook his head, "Nada. Looks clear."

Kevin remarked, "Looks can be deceiving."

And Cindy added, "You got that right. Jesus."

Claire and Cindy kept pace between Leon and Kevin as they moved into the walkway. It was scattered with leaves and papers as if by careless hands. A soft breeze kicked up as they crossed the first set of bathrooms they'd come across in the whole of their journey. The overhang declared itself with dancing monkeys and laughing giraffes. It was adjacent to the "Elephant Cafe" which offered an enormous elephant that created an arch into the restaurant for avid zoo goers with its triumphant trunk.

They paused and Cindy whispered, "I'm sorry...but I really have to pee."

It was a pretty easily agreed upon thing. Leon cleared the women's bathroom and the women went in first. As they washed their hands using sanitizer, Cindy mused, "...do I want to ask about Elza?"

Claire shook her head, catching a glimpse of herself in the dirty mirror above the sink. She was flaked with blood and bruised. She looked tired and scared and exhausted. And guilty.

She looked guilty.

She whispered, "We made her lose her shit and start screaming...and now she's dead."

Cindy rang her hands nervously. She rubbed at her face, shaking her head. "Don't. We can't think that way. We can't."

Claire nodded scrubbing her face with soap and water. No more black eyeliner. No more facade. She was all natural and looked impossibly young staring back at herself. The cuff on her ear jingled musically as she wiped her face with paper towels.

Cindy added, "Was it bad?"

Claire shook her head. She started to speak and her eyes sprang with tears. She made a small sound of denial when Cindy cooed softly, "Oh, honey. It's ok. I'm so sorry."

Claire lifted her hand to stop the hug that was coming. She couldn't have it. She'd fall apart if it happened. She breathed, hoarsely, "I'm ok. I'm  _ok. I'm fine."_ She wasn't.

But, by god, she would be.

The door wiggled and Leon looked in on them. "Sorry to bother you. I was just making sure you were ok."

Cindy gave him a sad look. "Alot of that word going around lately. I don't know that we are actually. But we aren't dead."

Leon glanced at Claire, pointedly, "What can I do? Anything?"

She shook her head, flapping her hands in the air as if she were dispelling negative energy. "Nope. I'm ok. I'm alive. I'm here. I'm ready. Let's go."

She moved toward the door and eased out of it. Leon backed up so she could pass him. She paused, hesitated, and finally lifted a hand to pat the front of his bulletproof vest. "Thank you. For checking. I'll be ok."

He nodded silently.

Claire moved to join Kevin at the gate that would lead them into the main thoroughfare of the zoo. It was locked and chained. He was frowning and trying random combinations.

Cindy remarked, "Maybe somebody had the combo? Someone locked it right? So someone got out. Maybe they hid in that restaurant."

It was really their only option. Even if it made the hair on the back of Leon's neck stand up.

The door to the Cafe was unlocked and cracked open. Kevin gestured with his hand to have them stand clear and quietly finished opening it. He cleared into the restaurant first while they waited outside for him.

After a handful of tense moments, he eased back to encourage, "All clear. Come on."

They gathered in the restaurant which was compromised of booths lined with yellow and gray patterns and decorated with elephant curtains in the same colors. The bar was pretty and pale wood and had three registers and a pretzel cabinet that was empty. The kitchen area was open and easily scanned from behind the counter.

There was an office door that was locked to one side that said ZOO MANAGEMENT.

Leon sighed, "The keys in there."

Claire huffed, deeply, "Yup. Let's see if the manager is around here with a key to his office. Otherwise?"

Kevin jiggled the handle. Cindy was already moving into the kitchen to start looking for the key. Kevin mused, "The lock is flimsy enough. I can probably kick the door open."

Leon answered, digging through the register, "Let's limit noise like that until we have to."

Kevin nodded, "Agreed."

Claire was poking around in the cabinets behind the register when the first moan filled the air. It was followed quickly by a clatter and a soft cry from Cindy in the kitchen. There was a handful of seconds before Leon found her on her back with a zombie trying to eat her face. She made a small gasp of fear and pushed at the thing that had once been the manager.

It snapped its jaws at her nose and Cindy mewled in disgust, doing everything she could just to keep from being devoured.

Leon whistled, the zombie jerked, and he kicked it in the side of the head. There was a squelch, a pop, a slurp of skin getting stuck to his boot and Cindy crawled on her butt and hands backward to get out from under it as Leon improvised on sound, grabbed one of the knives off the prep station beside him, and thrust it into the back of crushed skull of the the thing already trying to rise.

It flopped bonelessly to the floor in a congealed splatter of old blood.

It made a rattle of death as it went, and the fetid stench of its breath made him shudder.

Cindy took his hand to rise to her feet, shivering, "...thank you. Sorry. I didn't see it lying there when I came around the corner. It was so strong. It took me down with two hands on my ankles."

Leon patted her elbow a little, "It's ok. Just don't go off alone again, ok? At least not unless you have a gun."

Cindy shook her head, "I can't shoot one. I never have. It's more dangerous to give me one."

He nodded and turned. His hand closed over the hilt of the cleaver on the prep station. He flipped it and offered it to her, hilt first. "This will help."

She took the cleaver, smiling lightly. "Let's hope so."

Considering the moment, Leon knelt down to look in the pockets of the dead body. Sure enough, the key to the office was in his back pocket along with a photo. It was splattered in dried brown blood. Leon was careful not to touch the blood spots as he pulled it free. It left both he and Cindy staring at the note with a dry mouth.

A letter to the woman he'd left behind. Four words:  _I'll always love you._

Cindy shook her head, sniffling, as she left the kitchen.

Leon palmed the key and stuck the photo in his back pocket. There was little to no chance he'd find the girl in the photo, but he took the photo anyway, because if he did...she'd want to know. It seemed like the right thing to do.

He opened the office door in silence and they scoured it quickly, looking for anything. As an afterthought, Cindy took the small fanny-pack hanging on the chair filled with cash. It seemed cold, but wasn't, if something happened and they needed it, it seemed unlikely they'd be finding any Square machines or Apple Pay options. Debit cards were officially useless.

So much for modern technology. The only benefit so far was the mad attempts to get the word out before the fall, and even there that was taken as a hoax or a new YouTube phenomenon. No one believed it was real...and now they were all dead. Technology had gotten them all killed in a way, in another - it had simply failed to stop the fall.

The desk drawer came open easily enough when Claire used a letter opener to pop the cheap lock. The key to the gate was there along with an old flip phone. She picked up the ancient thing and opened it, scanning the messages. Apparently it was like a walkie-talkie for zoo employees. It was loaded down with hail mary messages hoping for rescue.

The worst truth of it was in the last few texts.

"Amanda-Moo" texting: You locked us in! YOU BASTARD! YOU COWARD! I hope you rot in hell!

Claire whispered, "He tried to save himself. He locked them in. He locked them in there to die."

Leon shook his head as Claire set the little phone back in the drawer and took the key. Kevin looked sick. Cindy murmured, "Maybe he was stopping something bigger from getting out, Claire. Maybe he had a good reason."

Well, that was terrifying to think considering they were about to head INTO the zoo.

Kevin answered, "The Apple Inn is out the same gate toward the station. They were doing the evacuation there. Originally that was plan. I say we still go there. Now. If the tram is a wash, if it's a death trap in there, let's get the fuck out as fast as we can and get to the Inn."

Claire shook her head, adamantly, "I can't. You know that. I have to find Chris."

Leon responded, "I'm with you. You know that. But let's go to the Inn, Claire. Let's see if there's anyone there that can help us. We know the station is bad off. We know that thing is still there roaming around. You saw the woman it was chasing..."

Claire nodded as they moved to the gate to open it. "Jill Valentine - his partner in S.T.A.R.S. That's what that thing was calling for. It was calling for S.T.A.R.S. It's after my brother. It's after Jill. I can't leave him here. I just can't."

Kevin touched her arm as the lock gave and the gate gaped open a little. "What if he's at the Inn? What if he's there waiting for evac too?"

She paused a moment, considering. If there were groups of survivors at the Inn, he might be there. He'd be where he could help the most, she was sure of that. If he was alive, maybe he was there. Maybe he was there helping people escape. Would it really hurt to check?

She opened her mouth to answer and the first sound of squealing metal split the air.

Cindy breathed, desperately, "Oh...my...god..."

The eighteen wheel spun sideways like someone had kicked it. It hit the far wall of the closest building in a cacophonous scream and flash of sparks and sound. The building shivered and nearly came down from the impact, rocking like a tower of blocks pushed by a clever kid. But that was nothing. It wasn't.

Not compared to what charged behind it.

Dumbo and a herd of gazelle. Dumbo - dripping with rot and disease- roaring and tossing its trunk above a mouth gone naked with infection. Dumbo and the infected gazelle it chased that ran toward them in a stampede of horror.


End file.
